


Parallel Lines Colliding

by xinsomniac1101x (xCapsiclexShellheadx)



Category: Law & Order: SVU, Oz (TV)
Genre: Angst, Angst and Fluff and Smut, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Angst with a Happy Ending, Can't you tell lol, Canon-Typical Violence, Elliot Stabler IS Chris Keller, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Explicit Language, Fanart, Fluff, Humor, Hurt Chris, I hate Claire Howell, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, Jealous Chris, Jealous Toby, Just like in Oz they drop the f-bomb a lot, M/M, Making Out, Making Up, My First Fanfic, My First Smut, Oz SVU Crossover, Possessive Chris, Protective Chris, Protective Toby, Rape/Non-con Elements, Reincarnation, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, for link to translation check notes, i'll add more tags as i go along, some sexy times but not too much, translated into Russian
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-05-04
Updated: 2019-12-30
Packaged: 2020-02-18 14:01:02
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 8
Words: 30,350
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18701044
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/xCapsiclexShellheadx/pseuds/xinsomniac1101x
Summary: Elliot dreams.And in them there is always a man named Toby.And, Elliot himself is looking through the eyes of a convict named Chris.When Elliot sees Toby outside of his dreams, he couldn't have ever imagined, how his life is about to change.And how he has already lived a whole other life, parallel to his own.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Hey! This is my first fan fiction!  
> I don't know how good it is and any critique is welcome...just please be nice about it. My heart is fragile :)  
> Anyway, I recently got into the Oz fandom and I wanted a B/K happy ending. Plus, I have only watched SVU when I was a kid and haven't since they kicked off Stabler.  
> If I have any inaccuracies on anything please let me know.  
> I've only watched Oz once and haven't rewatched it yet. So sorry for any inconsistencies.  
> Not beta'd All mistakes are my own.  
> So yeah, thanks for reading and I hope you enjoy! :D
> 
> For those who would prefer to read it in Russian the amazing [Catwolf](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Catwolf/pseuds/Catwolf) translated it and you can read [here](https://archiveofourown.org/works/19743292/chapters/46728745)!
> 
> **UPDATE** I made a permanent cover for this fic. If you want to check out the art for the old cover it's [here](https://archiveofourown.org/works/18761032/chapters/44506825#workskin)! :D

Elliot dreams.  
  
_He's enclosed in a small room made of glass._  
_He's laying down and he's staring up at the bottom of a top bunk. The mattress underneath him too firm and unyielding with scratchy sheets. Tossing the thin blanket off, Elliot gets up and walks over to a mirror._  
_He stares at a face that is his own but with slight differences. It's a little thinner making his jaw sharper. His eyes are hard-- cautious and haunted. And look fatigued and like they have seen the horrors of the world._  
_Elliot turns on the tap of the sink below and splashes water into his face._  
_Looking back at his reflection, he watches as the droplets drip down._  
_Eliot inwardly startles as a hand appears and grips his shoulder._  
_That shoulder seems to melt into the touch and Elliot leans back toward the person the hand belongs to as he grabs a towel to wipe the water off._  
_Elliot feels another hand wrap around his waist. And his eyes in the mirror soften and a small smile graces his lips._  
  
_The chin of the person-- man-- rest on Elliot's shoulder. He's handsome, with an small upturned nose and big blue eyes._  
_Elliot lifts his arm to stroke the man's head, tangling in the soft honey blonde hair. Imagining what else he wants to stroke on the other man._  
  
_The man smiles and it warms something inside of Elliot and his own grin widens as he whispers, "Hey, Toby. I didn't hear you come in."_  
  
_The man smirks as he lays a quick kiss to the side of Elliot's neck, "That's 'cause you were too busy admiring your handsome mug," he continues to mouth up his neck to his ear._  
  
_Elliot moans as Toby tugs his earlobe with his teeth, "Handsome, huh?"_  
  
_Toby just chuckles in reply, moving his hand off Elliot's shoulder to come around to his chest, lightly squeezing the nipple found there._  
  
_Groaning again, Elliot pushes his ass closer to Toby, feeling the hardness there. He wishes he could turn around, stick his tongue down Toby's throat then have his way with him._  
_But, instead of doing that, he says, "Not that I'm not appreciating this, Tobe. I really fucking am. But...Oh god--" Elliot's interrupted when Toby begins to grind into the cleft of his ass._  
_"Wait, Toby...the hacks'll throw us in the hole if we do what I know we both wanna do."_  
  
_Instead of stopping his movements, Toby presses even harder. Breathing wetly into Elliot's ear, he growls, "I took care of it, c'mon Chris...I need you. Fuck me, baby. We need this."_  
  
_Elliot...no, Chris.. can't hold back a moan as he replies, "Fuck yes baby. I want that."_  
_Chris pulls away just enough to turn around, wrapping his arms around his--yes his--Toby. No one else's. The thought of anyone touching his man, burns a fire of jealousy and anger inside him and also creates a dark pit of despair in his stomach. His face lunges forward with a snarl in his throat as he captures Tony's mouth in a deep, wet kiss._  
  
_Toby moans and the sound makes Chris' dick impossibly harder. He pushes it to rub against Toby's hard on. Chris whispers between kisses, "God, I love you," before he makes the kiss even deeper as his tongue goes further in. Trying to get as far into Toby as possible with just their mouths._  
_Toby pulls back, breaking the kiss. Chris whines but is content to lick and nip Toby's jaw and chin, as the other man catches his breath._  
_They are both breathing hard, when Toby brings his hands up from where they were desperately gripping Chris' back to caress Chris' face with both palms. He smiles with his red and swollen, kiss slicked lips, "I love you, Chris Keller."_  
  
_God he's beautiful, Chris can't help but think as a wonderful feeling lights up inside him. The feeling is foreign to him and it takes him a second to recognize it._  
  
_Oh, this is what happiness feels like._  
  
_As, Chris feels his face form the biggest smile it has probably ever made, he brings their foreheads together. He stares into the gorgeous eyes of the man he loves, seeing a similar happiness reflected in their depths. Chris leans forward for more of Toby's delicious kisses. With both their smiles still in place, it makes it harder but Chris Keller is always up to a challenge._  
  
Elliot wakes up suddenly.

He sits up with his breath coming out in pants. He's drenched in sweat so when he turns and plants his feet on the cold wood flooring he throws the comforter off his body. Sweat isn't the only thing covering his skin it seems, as he feels a wet stickiness in his boxers.

Damn, Elliot hasn't creamed his shorts in his sleep since he was a stupid kid, fantasizing about big boobed chicks and jerking off so much his wrist hurt.

He stands up with a groan as he leans over to fling the soiled boxers off his body. They land in one of the piles of dirty laundry around his room.

Glancing over at the alarm clock on his nightstand, he sees the numbers 4:35 blaring brightly at him in the dark. So almost 5 hours of restless sleep. Elliot sighs a long aggravated sigh. He has been ridden with these dreams so much lately he hasn't been getting any decent rest. At least this dream was better than the last one.

A dream where he was arguing with the man named Toby _._

_Elliot was trying to calm him down but Toby was furious. When he told Elliot...no, Chris, “You are death,” it hurt so much it was almost a physical pain. It was worse than any physical pain he had ever endured--and he has been shot and stabbed for fuck's sake. If Toby didn't love Chris anymore, what's even the point in living? How did he even live in a world where Toby didn't smile back. And maybe Toby was right. He sure felt like death at that moment. Everything was dark and he didn't want to be in a world without his Toby. So, he did the only thing he could do. He kissed and told the man he loved that he loved him and flung himself off the ledge. Chris had always wanted to die for love and he would bring his love down with him as he exclaimed, “No! Beecher! No!”_

_He felt air woosh by him for less than a second and a hard pressure on his neck._

_Before it all went black, he saw his Toby's distraught face._

_His last thought was, “Good. Now you won't ever forget me, babe.”_

Shaking the terrible memory...no it was just a dream...from his head, Elliot reaches over the alarm clock, to turn on the lamp. Once the room lights up in the soft yellow glow, his eyes catch the papers with a pen on them also resting on the small table.

With what he knows is a frown on his face, Elliot thinks he might as well just get this over with.

He grabs the pen and signs his divorce papers to Kathy.

It's what she wants and with all the fighting and drama that they've had to deal with, a part of Elliot agrees with her. As he finishes signing his name on the last page, he can't help but feel a sense of deja vu. Like he has signed these papers before, maybe even numerous times. He stops thinking about the pointless feeling as he tosses the pen back down.

Elliot murmurs, “I guess I'm a free man now.”

Then an image of bright blue eyes and soft honey hair comes to mind, until it forms the picture of a man literally from his dreams who he can't help but find the beauty in that smile of his.

Toby... Toby Beecher.

Elliot looks down to see himself at full hardness again. He sighs again as he strips off his shirt, leaving himself standing naked.

Let's go take care of this in the shower. And if Elliot came with the name Toby on his lips, water cascading his form, well that's between him and God. No one else needs to know.

 

~*~

 

Unable to hold back a large and long yawn, Elliot slumps against the brick building where him and his partner are waiting by. And though the stone is rough, the building is great for sheltering them from the sun.

Damn, Elliot hates this hot ass weather. He grumbles as he rolls up the sleeves of his button down, long ago sacrificing his jacket to the sun's near death heat rays by leaving it in the car to probably melt. Elliot gives a stony glare at the steam rising off the top of the vehicle.

“Long night?”

It takes Elliot a short moment to realise the question was for him. Straightening up his posture, Elliot grumbles, “Just haven't been sleeping well.”

Elliot startles when a small feminine hand grips his shoulder, a part of him wanting to push it off because it's not the hand he wants: a larger and rougher hand. Benson must not have noticed his discomfort because she says, “It's the divorce, isn't it? I'm sorry El.” Her voice which is usually a comfort is now difficult to hear when it is filled with such obvious pity.

Elliot can't help himself when he shrugs her hand off. He can see the hurt expression on her face and he tries his best to placate her. As, he gives her a small sheepish smile and replies, “Nah, Olivia. Just some weird dreams. I've come to terms with mine and Kathy's marriage. And the thing is, it's been over for awhile. It's nothing to worry about.”

The hurt expression leaves her face but she doesn't look so convinced of his assurances. She nods anyway and turns back to the road where they are waiting for a perp to show up, so they can have a word with him. Word being operative in this case; as, Benson will be doing the talking as Elliot will be the muscle for intimidation.

Crinking his neck, Elliot is ready for taking some of his frustrations out on this perv.

Speaking of the devil, here he comes now.

 

~*~

 

Well that was an easy one. The guy folded like a cheap suit under Elliot's hard glare and looked to Benson for sympathy as he confessed right there on the sidewalk.

As Benson is loading the purp in the car, Elliot can't help but notice a familiar figure walking down the walkway across the street.

His hair is longer now. A few strands giving off a reddish hue, as if he has been spending his days in the sun. Unlike Elliot, he was smart to wear ripped jeans and a quarter length sleeve shirt. The heat of the day is still winning though 'cause the sweat on those muscular forearms and pronounced collarbone, Elliot can make out from here. And he wants nothing more than to lick one of those droplets off with his tongue.

A sharp pain strikes Elliot's head, right between his eyes. It's like his life is flashing before his eyes. But, it's not the life of Elliot Stabler.

It's the life of Chris Keller. _He remembers his abused mom and his deadbeat dad. He remembers the drugs and the sex._

_He remembers Schillinger._

_And his three wives. Meeting them, marrying them, fucking them, them not loving him enough but he didn't love them all that much either, so he remembers each divorce. No wonder signing those papers to Kathy seemed familiar. He remembers killing those boys. How angry he was. And hating himself for it, so much he wanted to end it all a few times. He never went through with it though. Not till Oz._

_He remembers._

_Oz, now that had the light of his life. Shitty saying that 'cause it was prison after all. But, that's where he met_ **_him_ ** _. Ah..Beecher. His Toby. When he first met him, he thought Toby was crazier than a bag of cats. Handsome though, even with that insane beard. Having to seduce him was both a challenge and a pleasure. Now, when Toby said he loved him in that laundry room, Chris felt like a God. It wasn't just that he won his mark, but that he won over that beautiful, flawed, yet amazing man. When Chris said it back, for the first time it wasn't just hollow words._

_Elliot felt sick when he remembers breaking Toby's arms and laughing as he did it and when Schillinger broke_ **_his_ ** _Toby's legs. He remembers a feeling of annoyance. And thinking, “How dare that fuck, touch what belongs to me,” and “How dare the fuck, break what should only be broken with my two hands.”_

_He remembers._

_How Chris knew he was fucked in the head. Always had. But if Beecher forgave him for literally breaking his body and for breaking his heart, well maybe his rotten soul would be worth something. If it was worth something to Beecher._

_He remembers._

_After when Schillinger left Beecher to die, Chris made sure someone stumbled upon him, so that Toby lived to hate Chris and to later love him again._

_He remembers._

_Winning him back was the hardest thing he had ever done. It took tricks he would have rather not done. Seducing a nun was a new level of shit he had to roll in. Making out with his ex-wives wasn't really what he wanted either. He's kissed and fucked an insane amount of people. So, it was okay. Though, he did picture they were Beecher. It was a little difficult wrapping his arms around Bonnie and pretending she was him though. She was a big girl._

_But, it would all be worth it. If at the end of all that crap, it was the real Beecher in his arms._

_It took a lot of ups and downs. Chris didn't think his emotional state could change so quickly to another one and back._

_He remembers._

_When he first fucked Toby, now that was a reflection of their relationship. It was clumsy and awkward at first. Chris thought of himself as a “Lord of the sheets;” but that night, he felt like a teenager again. Every touch of Toby's skin on his, burned in the most delicious way. He felt loved and not just desired. Comforting Toby as he cried before he penetrated him, wasn't just a way to get to fuck him faster, as it had been with others. Chris meant the words he kissed along Toby's eyelids, his tears as they streamed down his face, and his adorable nose._

_Inside Toby was like being welcomed home; with, Toby's legs wrapped snuggly around Chris’ waist and gazing into those tearful eyes. He had never loved anyone more in that moment._

_Maybe Chris had never really loved anyone before Toby at all._

_He remembers._

_He didn't lie to Toby that day. Though Toby thought he had._

_Chris had fucked other men. Not only those he killed. Chris never had any relationship with them though; nor, did he want one. Nor did he ever love anyone of them._

_His whole life was about violence, lies, and sex._

_And though those things contributed to his relationship with Toby, so did love._

_It drove everything he did following that day in that laundry room._

_He lived, breathed his love for his Toby._

_He remembers_

_Even when Toby thought he had his baby boy killed and how that day was one of the worst of his life._

_He felt so betrayed._

_And even though he knew Beecher loved him, at the time it didn't feel like it was enough._

_He should have known better._

_He remembers._

_Watching his Toby with those other guys. Now that was fucking agony._

_Hurt so much that those men couldn't live to do it again. Couldn't even live to think or remember the touch of what's his._

_Eliot remembers, taking the fall for Toby. Even when they fought, he would fight to his last breath to protect that other man. Even from himself._

_He remembers death row and Toby getting out on parole and getting him off of death row. He remembers feeling so grateful and so loved._

_Until, the visits weren't enough._

_He remembers Toby saying he fucked someone else. How he loved someone else._

_Chris remembers the jealousy. That was his place. He wanted that. To be free and at his Tony's side. Building a home. Raising the rug-rats. Fighting over the remote on the couch and making love in a huge bed._

_Falling asleep to the beat of Toby's heart. Every. Fucking. Night._

_To wake up in the morning laying next to the man he loved. Watching as the sun played on the contours of his skin and danced across his eyelashes and hair._

_Eliot remembers wanting a life._

_He remembers ending Toby's because of that want._

_He remembers ending his own because a life with Toby even in Oz, was no longer possible._

_Elliot remembers everything._

He remembers his life, as Chris Keller.

And all it took was a few seconds.

What Elliot  does next is kind of a blur. He recollects giving Bensen some excuse, to say why he had to leave her to book the guy herself: probably something unintelligible by the look of disbelief she clearly gives him. Then he recalls rushing across the street in a haze, almost getting hit by a car in the process. The horn of the truck blaring behind him but he gives it no mind. The figure he is chasing hasn't noticed him yet and is about to get lost in a crowd. Elliot's anxiety reaches new heights as the fear of losing them-- _again_ \--strikes. So, he does the only thing he can as he dodges around people who are slowing him down to get to his, “Toby!”

He yells. And he desperately yells his name again, “Toby Beecher!”

The man stops and turns around.

Elliot can't breathe when their eyes meet.

It feels like they are the only ones on the street. The only ones in the world. As, they just stand there, maybe 8 feet away from each other: just staring. Toby appears shocked and maybe a little scared. Elliot doesn't know what to do so he just stays put too, looking at the man who is both a stranger to Elliot and the one who knows him best. He knows this deep down that it's true. And Elliot trusts his gut. It's kept him in one piece so far, anyway. And his gut is telling him that Elliot can look at Toby forever and he will never be bored. Never be unsatisfied. Just as Chris had.

And looking at Toby now, the man has an appearance of an angel. The sun behind him creates a glow of light around his head. The light reflects off his glossy hair and sparkles in a mimicry of stars.

Looking at Toby in this moment is like looking at a galaxy. And Elliot is sucked right in.

Elliot doesn't know how long they are both standing there. As, people are passing them by going on with their lives. Most are ignoring them but others are giving them weird looks.

It is probably only minutes that tick by; but, it feels like hours and meer seconds at the same time.

Eventually, the moment breaks.

And it is Toby that does it.

The expression of shock drains from his face; as it changes to near tears to pure anger.

The wonderful lightness that filled Elliot when he first saw his Toby, drains as well. To leave a heavy pit at the base of his stomach.

He takes a small step back. And Toby noticing, Elliot's small want to flee, charges.

Taking on a defensive pose, Elliot is surprised when a fist isn't flying at his face. The collar of his suit is grabbed and Toby drags him into the alley between a cafe and a tailor's. Uh oh. Elliot hopes he isn't carrying a shank because the look on his face can kill alone: the vein in his forehead violently throbbing. Part of Elliot is a tad surprised when his hand doesn't go to his gun to defend himself; another part knows that he could never seriously hurt what's _his_. Roughly being shoved against a concrete wall isn't normally what Elliot considers a good time; but when Toby does just that, Elliot can't stop feeling a sick thrill or his dick from throbbing.

This is so not the time right now, Elliot mentally scolds.

Or maybe it is, as Toby's mouth is suddenly covering his own. And he taste so good, better than Elliot remembers.

As if on reflex, Elliot's arms come around the slightly smaller man. One digging into that gorgeous hair and the other groping that equally gorgeous ass.

The kiss is like coming home.

Elliot guesses home is a little rough, and deep, and wet. And he about creams himself when Toby savagely sucks on his tongue.

Eliot gives just as good as he's getting as Toby let's out a long and sexy moan.

The heavy makeout session doesn't end till Toby viciously bites down on Elliot's bottom lip.

Pulling away with a growl, Elliot's about to complain about the cut now splitting his lip, when he stops: as a loud, broken sob breaks the silence.

Looking up with those baby blue eyes, from underneath his eyelashes--glossy with tears that also stream down his face--Toby lets out a whimper.

“Chris?”

His voice so full with grief. And the question so full of hope.

Unable to stop the tears building in his own eyes or the wobble in his voice Elliot says, feather-light, “Yeah, Tobe. It's me.”

And God must be looking down on Elliot...no, Chris in that moment because the next thing he witnesses is pure goodness.

Like a sun is lighting up his whole face, Toby smiles.

And in what must have been decades, Chris feels whole again.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Elliot and Toby need to work through some issues.
> 
> Also, Elliot get's a surprise visit from the only one who can give him answers.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry if it's too sappy and if Elliot is a little OOC he is also Chris after all so I'm trying to get a balance between both characters.
> 
> Again, it is unbeta'd. So all mistakes are my own.

The glass bottle explodes against the living room wall in a barrage of shards.

Elliot just barely dodges it as it was most definitely aimed for his head.

The man doing the throwing is in a full on rage: Toby's face is bright red, Elliot will not be surprised if steam started to come outta his ears; that one vein is so clear, Elliot can see it from where he is cowering by the wall; and, his jaw is clenched so tight, Elliot is sure that his teeth must be aching my now.

“C’mon Beecher...Tobe, please, let me explain,” Elliot raises his voice over another empty beer bottle crashing by his head. Flinching in regret, Elliot now thinks he shouldn't have brought Beecher back to his place. The floor is riddled with empties: starting from when he was kicked out and having difficulty with his separation with Kathy, not being able to see his kids, and ending with empties from when he was riddled with dreams of his past in another life. So, it left Toby plenty of ammo to attempt to take Elliot's head off with.

“Explain?” Toby laughs. And it is not the sweet low chuckle that he was doing when they were cuddled against each other on the couch, exchanging long deep kisses for chaste soft ones. Those soft chimes of joy encompassed the air; until, Toby hand bumped into Elliot's badge. Then he pulled it out.

Elliot could tell by the look on Toby's face; that, he knew that if Chris somehow survived that fall and escaped, no amount of identity change could get a convict like Keller a job as a cop.

It all went to hell from there.

With Toby having betrayed eyes and the words, “Who are you,” on his kiss swollen lips. Before his expression began to glower and that hell broke loose as he first threw the badge on the ground.

Those small moments of happiness shattered like the bottles against the wall.

So yeah...no, this laugh now, is near maniacal, and Elliot hasn't heard it in a lifetime so even that crazy-as-fuck laugh makes him grin.

Halting his unsettling cackles, Toby's eyes take on a whole new level of anger. Glaring a death glare to end all death glares, Toby seethes between his clenched teeth, “Is this funny to you? Maybe you are Chris afterall. He was also a sick fuck. Or you're his brother who has the same fucked up sense of humor.”

Elliot flinches a little at the “sick fuck” comment but he knows it's true. After all he was...is...Chris Keller. He understands how his mind worked. Even if now he is not quite as murderous or insecure. Elliot recalls when Chris would purposefully make Toby mad so that Toby's mind would only be filled with him. And the make-up sex was always a plus.

“It's not that I'm laughing at you, babe. It's that this whole situation is fucked up. I am Elliot Stabler. But I'm also Chris Keller. At least I was anyway. I don't understand how. Definitely since I am the same age as him. It's like we were living our lives at the same time but he lived his before me too,” Elliot can see Toby's suspicious look, but he continues, “Fuck. I don't know, Tobe. I'm really screwing up this explanation. God like I mess everything up. And don't you dare say, I'm cute when I'm self-deprecating.” Elliot smirks even given the situation as the disbelief starts to leave Toby's eyes with that comment. He continues, “I lived my life as Elliot. I got married. I had kids. I threw myself into work. But I never felt right. Like something was missing. Then I started having these dreams. And every single one had something in common. You.”

The fiery anger has dampened in Toby, and Elliot takes it as a chance to take steps closer. Slowly though, as if not to startle a fawn.

When he is about a foot away from Toby, Elliot whispers, “You. Have been the missing puzzle in my screwed up life. I yearned for you and when the dreams started I mourned you, because I thought you couldn't possibly be real. Heck I even desired you more than anything...anyone before. No different than when I was Chris. I still jerked off to the thought of you, baby,” Elliot waggles his eyebrows; and, he can feel a weight lifting off his shoulders when Toby's face turns red for a whole other reason. And he gives a light chuckle at Elliot's antics.

And the joy inside Elliot is almost too much for him to handle when Toby doesn't flinch away when Elliot's fingers brush against the corner of his smile. No Toby leans into Elliot's hand till his palm is cupping his cheek. Nuzzling it.

Leaning forward Elliot places his forehead against the other man's and not breaking the gaze meeting Toby's, he breaths the words, “I loved you. And when I first saw you today. I remembered everything. The good. The bad. The really fucking bad, and I know we're passed it but I'm so fucking sorry for all the hurt I've caused you, babe. I never stopped loving you throughout it all. And I know, with all my ragged soul, that even after I take my last ragged breath, I love you now and will always love you, Toby Beecher.”

He doesn't realise he's crying until he's done and he doesn't feel ashamed of his tears. As, Toby is crying as well. And Toby turns his head to kiss the palm on his cheek: cupping the hand with his own. Elliot can feel Toby's other hand curl around his neck and if that's not an invitation, Elliot doesn't know what is. He captures Toby's lips in a chaste kiss. And is warmed deeper to his core when Toby returns it. Deepens it and delves in with that wonderful tongue of his.

And Elliot almost doesn't catch the words, too preoccupied with the delicious pleasure Toby is now giving his neck. Toby repeats the words though.

“I am so fucking sorry too, Chris,” he kisses into the hollow of Elliot's throat. And he travels the way back to Elliot's lips, with a trail of kisses and licks, and as he goes he says, “I forgive you,” on each. Against Elliot's lips, Toby whispers, “I love you, Chris Keller and I love you, Elliot Stabler.”

Elliot laughs in pure joy, “Ah, baby. You can call me whatever you want. As long as you don't stop touching me.”

And as they make their way to the bedroom, Toby doesn't.

 

~*~

 

Elliot dreams.

He is in a white room with a white table with two chairs facing each other.

It kinda reminds him of the interrogation rooms at work.

“Time isn't linear.”

Elliot is startled at the words seemingly coming outta nowhere. Then his eyes land on a man sitting in the chair opposite of the side he's standing on.

“What?” Elliot asks dumbly.

The man only smiles and gestures for Elliot to sit in the only empty seat.

Elliot cannot comprehend the appearance of the man. He can only see that his eyes are a clear blue-green. And that is voice is as smooth as silk.

Elliot complies because it seems like going against that man would have dire consequences. Sitting in the rather uncomfortable chair, he looks back at the man across him. So, this is what the purps feel like on the other side in the interrogation room.

Then the man lets out a low and sing song chuckle, “Don't you worry, my child. This is not an interrogation,” Elliot wants to reply sarcastically that the man could've fooled him but remains silent. The man can read his mind anyway it seems.

The man's smile widens in amusement and there is a twinkle in his eyes as he explains, “You've been here before. And most of your questions will be answered. You just have to remember.”

And before Elliot could ask why the man is talking like Gandalf, the man is leaning over the table and pressing two fingers lightly to the middle of his forehead.

For a brief second Elliot knows no more after it goes dark; then, he lay on the hard, cold floor at Oz. Elliot...no Chris then dies.

 

_Chris woke up._

_He was sitting in a chair at a table in a white room: the walls and floor so clean it was creepy. Like if Chris sat in it long enough, it would leave his soul squeaky clean as well._

_“Hello, Chris.”_

_Chris nearly jumped outta his skin, “Holy fuck! Where'd you come from?”_

_“Everywhere,” a man, sitting across from him, answered fondly._

_“Well if that ain't fucking cryptic, I don't know what is,” Chris replied._

_The man chuckled and that just pissed Chris off more, “My child, you don't need to put up a front before me.”_

_That gave Chris pause so he just gave an annoyed sigh, “Whatever. What you want anyway?”_

_“I want to give you a second chance.”_

_“A second chance at what?” Chris grumbled. “What is this place anyway. It sure as fuck ain't heaven and it sure as fuck ain't hell. Unless you're gonna bore me for all eternity.”_

_“You are currently in limbo, my boy. Before your path crossed with Toby's, you would have been set aflame in hell fire. But alas your love for the other man showed potential for growth. Into the man, I knew you were meant to be.”_

_The mentioning of Toby brought a lump to Chris’ throat and he struggled with holding back the tears that stung his eyes, he coughed, “If I have this so called growth, why am I in this nuthouse room and not heaven? And does that make you God?”_

_“Oh Chris, I'm sorry to say that even with your grandeur, you still don't have the balls to make me do anything,” God laughs._

_“Haha hilarious, old man. Then why the fuck am I even talking to you now?”_

_“To give you a second chance. Like I said.”_

_“And like I said, at what?”_

_“Life.”_

_“Life,” Chris repeated deadpanned, “So what, you gonna bring me back from the dead?”_

_“Not exactly. You will be reborn. In a way you already have,” and before Chris could question that bullshit, God continued, “And you will be reunited with the one you love most.”_

_“Toby,” Chris sighed._

_“Yes. Don't you worry, little one. When the time comes and you have become the good man that is underneath that darkness that has shrouded you in this life, you will meet again.”_

_Chris just shrugs and puts on his winning smile, “Well what the fuck can I lose? I'm already dead. Let's do this.”_

_God smiled back and it was pure goodness; like being in the comforting hug of a parent._

_Then, he snapped his fingers._

_A baby cried. As he, Elliot Stabler breathed his first painful breath. Not knowing it was actually the second time the little soul had experienced it._

_In another hospital, at the same moment Chris Keller had breathed his very first painful breath._

 

Elliot slumps back into the way too uncomfortable chair--can't God manifest a lazy boy?--as the vision of his first time here fades into a memory.

He looks up at God, puzzled, and asks, “How can we be the same? We were born at the same moment in time. That's not possible.”

God gives him a small smile and looks at him like a parent would their toddler first starting to walk, “Time is not linear. As I've said before. It is fluid. When Chris died and came here I returned him to earth to be reborn.

You never crossed paths. Imagine two vertical parallel lines each with a dot on them. That dot being the beginning of each of the lives that travel. Elliot’s starting on the bottom of his line and Chris’ starting at the top of his. As your time... let's say... passes, Elliot’s dot starts to move toward the top and Chris' toward the bottom. Once, Chris reached the bottom, his life ended. But in doing so the line continued and curved across to the bottom of Elliot's line; to start his second life.

When I returned your memories it was as to return Toby back to you. In doing so branching a line from your life to attach to the end of Chris’.

In a way it has come full circle.

As if, you were two parallel lines living out your lives, now finally colliding. So, yes you are both Chris Keller and Elliot Stabler. Chris was born with a new shiny soul which gradually got tainted with a darkness, and yours is an old soul. One that lived out the life of Chris Keller, then a new life where you learned to defeat that darkness, walk in the light, and repent for the evil you had caused and endured.

You grew balls, Chris Keller. I am proud of you, my son. And I will be happy to welcome you and Toby Beecher in heaven when the time comes. For now you should wake to a life you have always deserved. Be happy, my child. Now wake,” he smiles, then snaps his fingers. Before Elliot can say anything--he doesn't even know what he was going to say, probably “Thank you,”--he is engulfed in a bright white light.

 

Elliot wakes up.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi! Thanks for reading!
> 
> I hope God explained the parallel reincarnation clearly enough. If not, comment to say and I'll draw a diagram to add so you can see a visual. :)


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Elliot wakes up and the cuddles with Toby are interrupted; when, Elliot realizes he has some explaining to do.
> 
> There is also some Toby POV.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry...this is mostly fluff again but the plot should get rolling in the next chapter...or the next. We'll see lol
> 
> Not beta'd. All mistakes are my own. :)

Sitting up, Elliot rubs the sleep from his eyes with both hands: the sheets pooling at his waist, displaying his bare chest to the empty quiet of the room.

He lets out a loud sigh, not quite believing what he just experienced. The sound causing the man laying next to him to turn over on his side and make a small content moan in his slumber.

Elliot smirks, the room ain't that empty after all.

Temporarily dismissing the dream--meeting?-- with God, Elliot rakes his eyes over the lovely display in front of him.

The sun is softly coming in through the blinds and is bathing Toby's form.

The sheets have fallen down to just cover up his hips and under, except for the one leg that has made its way out. The muscular thigh looking ready to eat.

And Elliot's cockiness grows when he recalls that he already had taken part in that feast. As, he looks down at the hickies that mar the supple skin of not only that beautiful thigh but the rest of the man: his abs, that Elliot remembers licking up and down; his hip bones, where Elliot enjoyed dipping his tongue into the groove; his collarbone, where Elliot nipped and sucked in delight, his neck, where Elliot enjoyed kissing, sucking, licking, and gave a particularly deep bite on the nape. To mark his claim once again.

Roaming his eye up further, Elliot sees Toby's hair holds much contrast. The strands that are encompassed in the shadows of the room look brown and the ones in the light of the window almost glow golden yellow. And to Elliot, they are much more precious than actual gold.

The corners of Elliot's mouth turn up in amusement when Toby's little nose scrunches up cutely.

He watches as Toby's eyelashes flutter as he begins to wake.

Elliot lies back down on his side, arm propping his head up, and waits for Toby to fully wake up.

When that baby blue peeks out from under those long lashes, Elliot can't stop the impulse to drag his fingers around a cheek and rub the pad of his thumb gently over the cheekbone.

Elliot can feel the smile forming underneath his hand, and he leans forward to press his lips on it--morning breath be damned. They never cared before. Elliot wouldn't mind trying to kiss Toby when he's brushing his teeth again, if he could. Toby might not protest this time and they could share sloppy yet minty kisses.

The words , “Good morning, gorgeous,” and a firm squeeze on his pecs brings Elliot back outta his thoughts.

Pulling Toby in for another more passionate kiss, he whispers against the other man's skin, “Right back atcha, babe.”

They continue to make out and with the way the heavy petting is going, are on their way to continuing the activities of last night when Toby moans, “I'm so glad you were brought back to me.”

That jolts Elliot into recalling his dream.

Probably noticing Elliot body stiffen, Toby soothes with the gentle words, “Chris, are you okay?”

Elliot tries to say he is but the words don't come and he can't seem to make a full smile to reassure his lover; it's too wobbly and small.

Toby sits up abruptly and before Elliot can protest he pulls Elliot right up with him.

He puts both hands on Elliot's shoulders and firmly demands, “Tell me.”

Slumping his shoulders in defeat and praying to God that Toby believes him and doesn't think he's crazy, Elliot talks.

 

~*~

 

“So...you met God,” Toby deadpans.

“Yeah,” Elliot barely gets out.

“And he told you that you really are Chris Keller.”

“Yeah,” Elliot risks a glance at the other man's face. Toby expression is as blank as one of Elliot's math tests in the 9th grade.

Then Toby nods, “Okay.”

Unable to keep the disbelief from his tone, Elliot repeats, “Okay?”

Toby just nods again, “Okay,” but now with a smile creeping up the corners of his mouth.

With a smile matching Toby's, Elliot replies, “So you don't think I'm crazy?”

Toby answers with a chuckle, “Well not about this. But yeah, you've always been one foot shy of a madhouse, Chris.”

Elliot grumbles playfully, “Why, you fucker,” he pounces.

Toby's laughs get louder as Elliot smothers him in tickling hands and smooches on his face.

_Rrrrrrrrrr. Rrrrrrrrrr._

The mixed guffaws are only quieted when Elliot pulls Toby's mouth into a kiss.

 _Rrrrrrrrrr. Rrrr_ **_rrrrrr._ **

Stopping his hands from tickling and Elliot puts them to work for more of a pleasurable purpose. As, he drags his nails lightly over Toby's nipples.

**_Rrrrrrr. Rrrrrrrrrr. Rrrrrrrrrrrrrrrr._ **

Toby's gasp is drowned out by that incessant ringing.

Elliot pulls away about to find something to throw at the phone that is ringing like mad and stopping him from hearing Toby's sweet sounds, when Toby's glazed expression of pleasure is replaced with one of alertness.

“Ah. Fuck!” He exclaims as he clammers out from underneath Elliot--somehow almost kicking Elliot in the head in his haste---and off the bed. Dragging the sheets with him and leaving Elliot naked to the cool air of the room. Elliot shivers, wanting nothing more to return to having Toby's warm naked body against his own. But he sighs as he goes digging through the mess of his room for a pair of pants to put on.

Toby is still also searching through the mess and he calls out maybe a little too loud, “Beecher,” as he flips open the phone to answer.

Elliot can't make out the words on the other end but he can hear an angry tone, as he zips up the semi-clean Levi's he found.

Toby groans, a not sexy groan, “Gussie. Please calm down. I forgot...no don't you lecture me... I'll be there in five...Holly's made up of stronger stuff than you think. She won't bawl cause I'm a little late….yeah I know you were worried. I'm fine. At a friend's,” Toby's tone turns annoyed, “Gussie, I so do have friends.”

Elliot gives out a silent chuckle at that. Smiling from ear to ear as he motions like his hand is curled around something going in and out of his mouth. Elliot knows when Toby sees the inappropriate gesture because his face sets aflame in embarrassment and he throws a pillow, that somehow made it to that end of the room, at Elliot's head.

With a glare, Toby turns his attention back to the phone, “Yes, yes. I'm still here. I have friends completely normal friends. And don't worry, as soon as you stop scolding me like an adolescent child and hang up, I'll get dres...get ready and head over. Yeah, yeah. Love you too, bye.”

Once, the phone is flipped closed Elliot let's out the guffaws he's been holding in. Causing Toby to storm over ears red and a smile threatening to spread his lips, as he grabs that same pillow and strikes Elliot more firmly in the head this time around.

Elliot pulls the other man toward him and plants a kiss on Toby's protests of, “I have to go.”

“I know,” Elliot kisses, “Just one more for the road,” he kisses him again then steps back, “Now get some clothes on that sexy ass of yours before I drag you over to the bed.”

Toby complies as he throws his underwear and pants on. Then runs to the bathroom adjacent to the bedroom to piss then wash his hands and face. Coming back over to Elliot while hastily putting his shirt over his head, “Do I smell fine?”

“You always smell delicious to me, Tobe,” Elliot winks.

Toby finishes pulling his shirt down--covering up all that gorgeous skin--then swats at Elliot in good humor, “Not what I meant, you charmer. Do...I smell like sex?” He flushes a gorgeous red.

Elliot, though wanting nothing more than to nibble on those blushing ears, just replies a little outta breath, “Everything in here smells like sex, babe. So, couldn't tell you.”

Toby sighs, “Fuck. And I don't have time for a shower. Okay I'll go as is,” then as if just remembering something, “Give me your hand,” as he spots the pen still on the side table from when Elliot signed the divorce papers. The papers long gone, having been given to Kathy's lawyer yesterday morning.

Gently holding Elliot's hand he writes, “Here's my number. Call me tonight... I'm guessing you have work, so after that, okay? Tonight and don't you forget, please, Chris.”

He stops writing but is still holding Elliot's hand, staring at the numbers there intently.

Reaching with his other hand that's not being held hostage in a tightening grip, Elliot lifts Toby's chin up so they are face to face.

Toby looks scared.

“Hey,” Elliot says with a smirk.

“Hey,” Toby says back, chin wobbling underneath Elliot fingers.

Elliot gazes into those now glossy eyes and says in a low, soothing voice, “Toby, I'm not going to disappear. When you leave here and go see your kids, I'll still be alive. I'll still be thinking of you after you leave and the whole time I'm at work. And I. Will. Call. And when we meet up. Either back here, or your place, or some random cafe, I'll be there too. You got that?”

Elliot can feel Toby swallow from where his hand is lightly resting on his neck and when Toby nods, Elliot let's go of his face.

Toby stammers out, “I'm going now. And you'll call,” and he brings the hand with his number on it, that the near death grip has eased up on, to his lips. He kisses the knuckles than the number written on it. He repeats, “You'll call,” firmly.

Elliot nods, “Yeah.”

Toby smiles, let's go of Elliot's hand, and Elliot walks him to the door leading out of the apartment.

Before Toby steps out he drags Elliot into a quick goodbye kiss and says, “I'll be thinking of you too.”

He let's go, goes out, and shuts the door behind him.

Elliot stands there just staring at the door that his Toby left through, “I'll call,” he whispers out loud to the silence of the room.

Then as he makes sure to write down the number on the pad next to his landline, he brings his hand to his lips: to kiss the number and the spot where Toby's lips had met them.

“I'll call,” he repeats.

Feeling a little ridiculous kissing his own hand, Elliot makes his way to wash off the scent of sex that obviously permeates his body.

“Oh, Toby,” Elliot thinks fondly as he washes, “I hope you carry my scent on you all fucking day,” he laughs in pure joy.

 

~*~

 

Hailing a taxi by waving his arms like a madman. Toby gets in and gives the cabbie his address.

Leaning closer he adds, “Can you please hurry, as well. I'm late.”

The driver just rolls his eyes at Toby and replies dryly, “Yeah, yeah. For a very important date, sir.”

It was Toby's turn to roll his eyes but he just sits back in his seat with a huff. Tapping his leg impatiently, Toby tries not to let the man's attitude ruin the wonderful day.

 _God_ brought Chris back to him.

That is so fucking insane and Toby doesn't know how he believes it. But he does.

Maybe this is all an elaborate dream and Toby is knocked out somewhere in a hospital: having conked his head after tripping over his own feet. He'll wake 20 years later and his kids'll be grown up, married, with kids of their own.

Having grandchildren would be nice. Toby would spoil them like he would have wanted to do his kids when he was in Oz.

Back in reality, Holly's still only 15 and Harry's 12. Time really flew with them while those 6 years at Oz then 6 at Rikers felt like an eternity.

Well the short years with Chris he wished were longer--even if they had spent it fighting--while he was mourning his death.

Thinking about it now, Toby hadn't cried.

Hadn't cried until he sobbed in relief that Chris was returned to him. That somehow, somewhere God heard his prayers and when Toby was on his way back home yesterday afternoon, he heard his name called in a voice he thought he had forgotten. But, knew deep down, Chris was branded on his very soul.

Funny how that works. Schillinger, that fuck, branded Toby's ass and Toby hated him for it (among everything else). And Chris wormed his way inside his heart and left a mark within Toby that Toby knows he will always cherish.

Looking out the window, Toby can see, he's almost to his apartment.

He decided to stay in New York...well decided is kind of not the right word. He was forced to stay in New York. After he fucked up his parole the first go around, getting out, he was met with strict guidelines until further notice.

It's a load of crap but if he wasn't living in this city, he never would have met Chris again.

_God brought Chris back to him._

Thinking it again doesn't make it any more believable.

Even when he breaks down the miraculous happenings of yesterday and this morning

Chris is _alive_.

Chris met _God_.

And a small pang of jealousy makes its way through the happiness that is bubbling inside him.

Of course he is happy for Chris. He is happy for himself, cause he now has Chris again.

But, through all that shit at Oz and all the praying and jumping religions and back. Toby can't help but be irked that God literally spoke to Chris--Twice!-- and Toby never even got a sign that God was listening.

Toby throws the bitterness away with a growl. The fuck does it matter if God only talked to Chris? At least _He_ did something.

The cab stops. And without checking how much, Toby throws a bunch of bills at him, probably including a hefty tip. Even though, the man was rude, he might be having a bad day and Toby is having a great one. He might as well spread that around.

Jumping outta the taxi, he quickly shuts the door and runs to his building.

The doorman let's him in with a tip of his hat and away Toby goes.

As he get to his apartment, he is welcomed by a big hug from Holly and a huge grin from Harry, and an exasperated yet fond look from Gussie, Toby can't help but look up and pray.

Toby has his family. And now he has Chris.

They aren't behind bars.

 

_Where they have to watch each other's backs for assholes who might try to shank them._

_Where they have to trade kisses in private or get yelled at by hacks or cat-called by other inmates._

_Where they have to wait till lights out to make love and do it quick before the next hack walks by._

_Where Toby has to pay some of the more corrupt hacks off, so him and Chris can have more time._

_Where Toby has to choose between being with his family and being with Chris._

 

Now, Toby can have both.

And though he knows it won't be perfect. But when is life ever perfect? This ain't no romcom where at the end, the main characters make out in the rain and then, time skip, they are married with 2.5 kids.

This is real. Just as Toby and Chris are real. And that, to Toby, is fucking amazing.

Toby drags Harry into the hug with Holly, and cackles as Harry whines and protests.

He has his kids in his arms and Chris will call.

And for that Toby is thankful.

 

 

_Thank, fucking, God._

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm looking forward to the next chapter. It's coming soon.
> 
> Thank for reading! :D


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Elliot and Toby walk in.
> 
> Toby then Chris walk out.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I like how this chapter turned out. I hope you all enjoy it.
> 
> Again, unbeta'd. So all mistakes are my own. I combed over it but if I find any mistakes after posting they will be fixed. :)

Quietly shutting the hospital door behind him, the rage in Elliot thrives. He clenches his fists tightly together to stop himself from hitting something. Probably the wall, though he knows he wants to strike it hard against the fucker who raped that poor kid lying defenseless and broken in that hospital cot.  
  
Not the youngest he's seen. About 14 but even at an age to understand what had happened to him, no one deserves to be raped. Or touched against their will.  
  
Even Toby who had killed a little girl.  
  
Even Chris who wasn't much older than the kid in that room when he was thrown in Lardner.  
  
That was when Elliot realizes that the reason he can do his job so well is 'cause he was also a victim of rape.  And sexual abuse.  
  
Chris was not only raped by Schillinger at 17; but he was always used for sex.  
  
That's all he was seen as, as a way to get off. Even with his ex-wives. They wanted his body first and then when they couldn't get his heart, they handed over those divorce papers.  
  
So, Chris learned to use it as a way to defend himself. Then as a way to manipulate people. The sexual way people viewed him, he molded into a weapon.  
  
He even used it on Toby at first; though, Toby was the only one who would enjoy being cuddled up together just as much as the sex. Who saw the sex as a way to make Chris feel good, because he wanted to love Chris in all ways. Not just 'cause he liked to suck and ride a huge dick. Not that Toby didn't enjoy that too but it was making love. Not just fucking. Like it was with everyone else. Just Toby.  
  
As Elliot, he must've subconsciously remembered the feeling of being used during sex as Chris.  
  
He may have jerked off a lot when puberty hit to skin mags; but, when girls would hit on him, he only felt uncomfortable and would shy away. He didn't like being touched.  
  
Kathy was an exception. And even then it took them awhile to make out much less have sex. And she was the only one too. They got married outta high school, had the kids, then rarely had sex after that. No wonder she felt unloved. He did love her. But not the way either of them needed. He always felt like something was missing. Like her hands were too small, her kisses too soft, her smile not quite reaching her eyes. It was never like Elliot was the most wonderful thing she's ever laid her eyes on. She settled. And so did he. The marriage ran its course. There must be someone else out there meant for her; just as, Elliot was literally born for Toby.  
  
The thought of Toby brings a small smile to Elliot's face.  
  
And that's how Benson finds him. She asks curiously, “Something good happen, El?”  
  
Noticing where he was still standing, now leaning on the wall next to the door, Elliot shakes his head, “Nah...just lost in thought.”  
  
“Sorry. It's just weird to see you genuinely smiling when we're on a case. Usually, you are brooding and holding back from pummeling the skel.”  
  
The anger that was on the back burner when Elliot's thoughts got sidetracked, returned to a near boil, he growled, “I'm gonna do worse than pummel that fucker who touched that poor kid. That fuck's gonna be sorry he ever heard my name.”  
  
If Olivia's eyebrows could raise any higher, they'd be hidden in her hairline, “Woah. I never thought I'd see the day where Elliot Stabler could swear like that. This case must really be getting to you. Let's head back and you can brief the team on what you found out, from the victim.”  
  
Elliot nodded and followed her out. Mentally backtracking on what he said and realizing he said fuck.  
  
Elliot Stabler doesn't just say fuck.  
  
But, swearing was like breathing for Chris. In Oz and out. If you couldn't say fuck...well you might as well bend over now, cause you were fucked and not in the fun way.  
  
Elliot laughs at his own thoughts and Olivia gives him a look like he's grown two heads.  
  
Paying her no mind, Elliot ducks into the car and once Olivia is in as well, he takes off.  
  
It's back to work.

  
  
  
~*~

 

The clang of the keys against the kitchen counter resonates throughout the empty apartment.

Elliot sighs and loosens his tie.

Fuck that was along day. Usually, Elliot would have stayed late and maybe even slept at the precinct; but, he asked Cragen if he could have a few days.

Cragen easily let him have the days off. Probably scared he'd have to suspend Elliot the next time he was left alone with the purp.

Screaming in the fucking perverts face, wasn't the smartest move, on Elliot's part. Nor was dragging the man outta his seat to growl in his face: about what happens to pedo bastards in prison

Though, inside Elliot was filled with a sick glee when he was sure the fucker was about to piss himself in fear; until, Finn was sent in to pull a berating and struggling Elliot outta the interrogation room.

Well...whatever. Elliot collapses on his worn couch. He spreads his legs out, leans back, and rest his outstretched arms on the back of it. Now he can concentrate on his renewed relationship with Toby.

Speaking of Toby, Elliot jumps up suddenly, his aching body be damned, “Oh. Fuck!” He exclaims as he clammers over to his phone. He quickly dials the phone number, hoping the other man isn't already asleep.

“Beecher,” the voice on the other line answers eagerly.

Elliot can hear the grin in his own voice as he replies, “Hey Toby.”

“Hey Chris,” says Toby shyly back.

After a slight awkward silence, just listening to each other breathe, Elliot sheepishly apologizes, “Sorry Tobe. I didn't get off work till around 10:30. I hope I didn't wake you.”

“It's okay, Chris. I wasn't asleep, though the kids passed out at 9.”

“Yeah. Mine are the same. Even my oldest, Maureen is in bed by then. Though I'm sure she's been waking up early to talk to boys,” Eliot relates.

Toby pauses then hums, “...hmmm...so you have kids.”

“Yeah I mentioned it briefly before but you probably had other things on your mind, with me in front of you, then on you, then in you and all,” Elliot hopes his eyebrow waggle somehow makes it through the line to Toby and by the keen of “Chriiiiiissssss,” Elliot knows his intention of getting Toby worked up is a success.

“But yeah, back on the topic, I have four. Kids that is. Maureen is my oldest, then Kathleen, then my twins Elizabeth and Dickie,” Elliot quickly adds before any doubt makes its way into Toby's mind, “I'm divorced. I also mentioned that but I know I'm very distracting, baby.”

“That makes it five. Now Chris. You going for a record or something?” Toby's voice so dry in his sarcasm he can create his own desert.

Instead of taking the bait to bicker, Elliot speaks the truth, “Well they weren't you. So no wonder they all didn't work out.”

Elliot can swear his grin can split his face, it is so wide, when he hears the gasp on the other line and the delighted chuckle of ,”Oh...Chris,” then the sweet as candy words, “I wanna see you.”

“Aw, Tobe. I wanna see you too. Let's meet tomorrow. I got time off work. My place, okay?”  Elliot cannot stop the excitement from creeping into his voice at the prospect of seeing Toby again so soon.

“Yeah, your place is fine. Is around noon okay? I have to get the  kids ready for school. And Angus is picking them up to bring to my mother's for the weekend. So I'm all yours.”

“Weren't you already?” Elliot replies smugly, then before Toby can reply, continues, “Yeah, noon is good, babe.” Wracking his brain on where they could go for their first official date, Elliot realizes there is one place they both need to get out of the way first. He starts, “Hey, Tobe.”

“Yeah?”

“Even though I want to just jump to phone sex,” Elliot says jokingly before his tone turns serious and low, “I know what I want to ask may kill the mood.”

“Well phone sex would be a first for me. But I will eagerly wait for it,” Toby jokes back but continues, voice a tad concerned, “What is it Chris?”

“Well the thing is...tomorrow when we meet...can we visit my grave?”

 

~*~

 

The drive is silent.

Elliot chances a glance, away from the road, at Toby buckled in the passenger side seat.

He's staring out the window but he's holding Elliot's hand, so tight, Elliot can swear he can hear his bones creak.

Toby isn't looking at him though. Just intently staring out the window lost in thought.

Elliot himself thinks back to when Toby got to the apartment.

The greeting of a bear hug was not what Elliot expected. But as Toby clung to him, Elliot could only smile in relief and return the embrace with all he's got.

When they got in the car, he could tell Toby was reluctant to let him go and once Elliot buckled himself up, Toby had quickly latched onto his hand like a bee to nectar.

And Toby spoke nary a word except when he told Elliot the address of the graveyard.

Now as Elliot pulls in the parking lot, he can see that this isn't what he expected.

It has a tremendous iron gate and most of the tombstones are expensively ornate and large sculptures of angels.

Elliot hears some mumbling and realizes it's coming from Toby.

“Yes, babe?” He asks, “Can you speak up a little for me?”

Toby squeezes the hand he has hostage harder and anxiously questions, “Should we have gotten flowers? To put on his… your grave?”

Eliot smiles sadly at the clearly distressed man, “Nah, babe. You can get me flowers anytime. Everyday if you want to. We have the rest of our lives to shower each other in presents. I like red roses. The petals would look sexy spread out on my bed. Preferably with you in it,” he flirts.

Toby just replies with a small broken, “Okay,” unlike his usual flustered response.

Maybe this isn't the best idea. Elliot mentally belittles himself.

But, they are already here, they might as well get this over with.

Giving Toby's hand a squeeze to reassure the nervous man, as he untangles his hand that had lost feeling about a mile back, “C'mon, Toby,” Elliot encourages him as he lets himself outta his car. Toby pretty much launches himself out the other door in his haste to return back to Elliot's side. Threading his arm through one of Elliot's as he tugs him over, then through the gate of the cemetery.

Now in the sunlight, as they walk, Elliot takes the time to admire his lover.

Toby's hair is neatly combed back, the cool breeze blowing the strands attractively. The heat wave has finally passed, and the man wears a white button down underneath a dark orange sweater and grey coat.

Elliot himself has taken on Toby's previous look, as he doesn't get cold easy, with dark ripped jeans and a black button down with rolled up sleeves.

Breaking the silence between them in the equally silent graveyard, Elliot whistles impressed, “Now, this isn't the kinda fancy place I thought my meatsuit was gonna end up. I thought it was definitely Potter's Field for me.”

The breaking of the silence must have been like a wrecking ball destroying a whole city block, the way Toby jumps. After his feet return to earth, Toby murmurs morosely, “I couldn't... wouldn't let that happen. The thought of you in an unmarked grave. With no one to mourn you like you were never here. If your death didn't break my heart, I know that would have.”

Elliot forces down a sob that is trying to break free from his throat, he coughs instead, “You had me buried here? You did this for me?”

With Toby's face now burrowed where Elliot's shoulder meets his neck, he doesn't reply with words. But, Elliot can feel his nod.

Like a moth to a flame Elliot finally spots his name on a tombstone.

It's not as gaudy as most here. It's rather plain but the stone looks pricey and it's large.

The inscription underneath his name and date of birth and death catches his eye first.

_God doesn't have the balls to keep him out._

Elliot smiles. Though he heard from God's mouth that it isn't exactly true. But, the old man is a softie and is gonna let him in anyway. Which Chris really lucked out on.

A broken sob echos through the yard. Which isn't too surprising. This is a cemetery after all. It is a place to cry. And to mourn.

Elliot wraps his arms around the shaking form of the man he loves as his sobbing grows louder.

Elliot shushes, “It's okay. I'm here.”

Toby just clings tighter and cries harder.

Placing a kiss to the top of that golden head, Elijah asks, “You wanna wait in the car?”

Elliot once again can feel the nod instead of see it.

Kissing Toby's head again, he hands him the keys, “Go ahead, I'll be just a minute, okay?”

“Okay,” Toby croaks out as he gives Elliot another firm hug and practically races back the way they came.

Watching his retreating form, Elliot feels it best to let Toby grieve alone for a minute. He is mourning Elliot...Chris afterall for the first time.

Turning back and taking a step closer to his tombstone. Elliot feels surreal as he rests his hand atop the cool stone.

He never would have thought he would be standing over his own grave. He looks down at the grass beneath his feet and realizes for the first time, “My body is in there. Rotted and filled with bugs.”

_Fuck. Chris is dead._

Elliot can't stop the rise of pressure building up in his throat as he keels over and vomits his breakfast, right next to his pretty as fuck tombstone.

Getting up after doing what felt like upchucking all his internal organs, Elliot wipes his mouth with the back of his hand and thinks, “Fuck no. Not anymore. Chris isn't dead.”

_“I'm not fucking dead.”_

Chris may have been reborn. And on paper and to his co-workers and his family, he will be Elliot. But to Toby and to himself he is _Chris fucking Keller._

With his internal identity finally in check, _Chris_ turns around sharply from the grave. Striding out of the graveyard. The body in that casket may be long dead; but, Chris Keller is still alive and it's going to stay that way.

Chris folds himself into his car. Toby glances at him and the tears are still obviously on his cheeks.

Chris reaches his hand across the console to squeeze Toby’s thigh. And reassuringly he says, “It's okay, Tobe. Chris is alive. I'm alive,” Toby nods, curling his hand over Chris'. And as Chris pulls the car out to the road, hand never leaving Toby and Toby's not leaving Chris’, he smiles. And glances at Toby to see a reflection of his own joyful expression.

He smirks, “And I'm not going anywhere, babe,” as he lifts Toby's hand to press a light kiss to the knuckles.

Toby threads their fingers together and grins, “You better not. Or next time I'm gonna be the one to kill you for real this time.”

Before Chris can reply back with a witty retort, Toby sniffs and scrunches up his nose in that adorable way he does, and with a pinched face, asks, “Did you throw up?”

Chris just laughs and laughs: squeezing his Toby's hand tighter.

 

 

Elliot and Toby walked in.

Toby then _Chris_ walked out.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chris is back, baby! XD


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> They decide to make today a real date after they had the depressing yet enlightening experience at the graveyard.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So there is a scene in here that gives that Mature rating its meaning. Tell me if you think it might be more on the Explicit rating. But for now I'm going to keep Mature as I feel it's not full on smut.
> 
> Anyway, I hope you all enjoy this chapter.  
> It's a tad longer than past chapters. That's why it took so long to write (plus RL shiznit). I hope the wait was worth it. And thanks so much for reading! :D
> 
> Again, it's unbeta'd so all mistakes are my own. I will be combing over it a few times after posting to look for any mistakes I might have missed :)  
> Update: I changed around dialogue of Chris' to flow better. I didn't change what he said though just fixed some things. I also was rereading and noticed I wrote LA instead of Vegas. I made sure to correct that. Sorry *facepalms*
> 
> Note: Just a small warning for those who are familiar with US laws, I'm not.  
> And I have bended some a tad bit to help with my plot bunnies. Sorry in advance if it bothers anyone. But I hope it's minor enough it doesn't.

They decide to make today a real date after they had the depressing yet enlightening experience at the graveyard.

So, Toby enters a bar with Chris that Chris swears to him has the best burgers.

It's not very busy--being it a bar and being it the middle of the day and all. Only a few drunks starting early, sitting glumly slouched at the bar. Multiple empty glasses ahead of them and Toby feels his mouth suddenly go dry. And his fingers ache for a martini glass.

Chris must've seen a look on Toby's face because he loops his arm through his and drags him to a booth; while calling out to the bartender, “Hey, Luke, two of the usual!”

Toby turns to the rather handsome, blonde, fit bartender as the man replies, “Beers okay?”

Shaking his head, Chris answers, “Nah, man. Just cokes today.”

Nodding, “Luke” starts on putting their order through; but, not before giving Toby a once over.

Trying not to think about that odd look Luke gave him, Toby attempts to get comfortable in the booth--it's been over a frigging decade since he's been in one--then Toby grabs Chris’ hand, who's sitting across from him, “You don't have to do that.”

“Do what?” Chris plays coy.

“Not drink,” Toby looks away as a wave of shame courses through him.

“Aw, Tobe. I think with my last divorce, I've had enough of drinking. Plus I wanna be lucid for what I'm gonna be doing to you tonight,” slavaciously leers Chris.

Instead of turning Toby on, the flirting reminds Toby of how outwardly sexual the man is. Not falling for the charm this time and still looking away, Toby mumbles, “The bartender is cute.”

From the corner of his vision Toby can see thunder begin to storm behind Chris’ eyes as he frowns, “What are you trying to say?”

“...nothing. Nevermind,” Toby starts to pulls his hand away.

Chris latches onto the hand with his own before it can escape, “Are you trying to ask if I've fucked Luke?” Chris harshly whispers, eyes darting around making sure no one is giving them any mind.

Toby doesn't reply and manages to pull his hand away as--speak of the devil--Luke swaggers over with their drinks, a friendly smile in place, “Here's your Nah-man-just-cokes, gentlemen.”

He puts Chris’ down first but is slow in giving Toby's.

Along with that simmering jealousy, an irritation rises up. Toby wonders if this fucker is picking a fight with him.

With a tight forced smile in place Toby reaches to grab the glass. But, even as Toby has his hand wrapped around it, Luke doesn't pull his own hand away or off.

Toby nearly chokes on his own spit in surprise, as Luke's hand caresses lewdly over his.

The man leans over, his voice a sultry purr, “I hope you enjoy it, handsome,” he winks.

Toby can swear his mouth is hanging open and he can hear Chris sputtering on his soda: in surprise or amusement, Toby doesn't know yet.

Luke gives a low chuckle, and when he takes his hand away, it's slow and he slides his fingers against Toby's skin as he goes.

Trying to suppress the shudder that goes up his spine, Toby is still in a state of shock as Luke swaggers away, more sway to his hips this time. Obviously, purposefully accenting his **ass** ets as he calls over his shoulder, “The burgers will be out in a minute, guys.”

Well that was unexpected.

“So still think I've fucked him?”

Toby finally puts his drink down, feeling a little dirty, he pushes it away from him while pushing away the lingering feeling of the man's touch, “Well, if anything, with the way he was acting, I'd say I think it more strongly now.”

“Seriously, Toby? Luke didn't even look at me. And he was all over **you** ,” Chris growls.

“Well maybe he's already had his fill of your buffet and wants to try a new restaurant,” Toby accuses.

“Fuck,” glares Chris as his hand forms a fist--knuckles tight--where it's still laying on the table, “Yeah right, Toby. I didn't even know he went for dudes. I haven't fucked him. If you even believe me, dammit. I haven't fucked anyone at all except my wife who I was only with when I didn't even remember you.”

And before Toby could retort, Chris continues harshly but quietly, “So yeah, news flash, the new Chris Keller doesn't fuck around. What about you, Toby? Have you been fucking around?”

Withholding his reply, Toby puts his elbows on the table and buries his face in his hands. He lets out an aggravated sigh.

_Fucking around?_

_Yeah right._

If Toby thought Oz was the most brutal, Rikers was definitely a competition for the title.

Toby has only been out almost 4 months and the memories of fighting off the forceful pawing hands of men still haunt him.

Even the way women treat him, since he got out, is upsetting. Like a piece of meat to put a ring on their fingers and a substantial amount of money into their purses.

So, he’s had a hard enough time--no pun intended--jerking off, let alone even possessing the thought of having sex with anyone. Man or woman.

Until, he saw Chris again. And when he shoved him up against that wall, he half expected himself to slug the fucker for breaking his heart, But, he found himself hard and wanting.

Something he hadn't felt since he watched Chris throw himself to his death. Not since he saw the light leave those beautiful blue eyes.

Not until, he found himself staring into those very same eyes he thought were lost forever.

Now, as he opens his mouth to talk--still shielding his face--a cheery voice resonates throughout the room.

“Here you are, guys. Best burgers in the city.” The savory smell of food fills the air and Tony can hear the clatter sound of the plates being put on the table, then a pause and Toby can feel a hand--a hand that's not Chris’ and he feels sick to his stomach--on his shoulder.

Patting Toby comfortingly, “You feeling alright, sweet pea?”

As Toby freezes up from the horrible _pet-name_ he hasn't heard since he stabbed that fuck.

The world feels dark, and Toby knows it's not real. But, he can feel acrid breath on the back of his neck and the echo of that disturbing chuckle, _“Your ass is mine, sweet pea.”_

Shoving down the disgusting memories, Toby tries to shrug off the touch still on his shoulder.

It only makes the hold on him more firm.

And a panic rises up in him and Toby can't quite get the strength to throw the hand off of him.

Luckily, Chris speaks up with a deep rumbling growl.

“Hey, hey, hands off. He clearly doesn't like it and for that matter, I don't either, pal. I thought it was funny when you spontaneously started flirting with an obviously taken man but _that_ touching is too far. And “sweet pea” really? My Toby is more a “baby” man," and funnily enough even in this situation and not even looking at Chris, Toby knows Chris did sarcastic airquotes on the pet-names. "And I'm the only one who gets to touch or call him that. So hands off before I take it off, Luke,”Chris snarls and Toby looks up in time to see a sinister smile on Chris' face which was probably on the whole time he was speaking.

Luke can't have thrown his hand off fast enough. Toby looks over to see the man with his hands up like Chris--who is actually a cop, Toby keeps forgetting--is about to arrest him.

Even with that stony glare facing him and having just been threatened with bodily harm, Luke doesn't seem to have gotten the whole message as he turns back to Toby. With a smirk, “So, your name's Toby, huh?”

Okay, this man is either ridiculously soft in the head or he has balls of steel because anyone who faced that Killer Keller glare in Oz was quivering in their boots in fear.

Well...maybe it is stupidity. Because as Chris looks to be about to stand up, the eye daggers even sharper and a deep frown in place, the fear now only sinks into Luke's eyes when Chris speaks. Voice low and thunderous, “What was that, Luke?”

“N-nothing. S-s-sir.,” Luke stammers as the color drains from his face and he scurries away with a mumbled, “Enjoy your meal.”

Chris sits back down with a triumphant grin, “Still think I've fucked him?” He repeats.

Toby sighs with a relieved smile, “Nah, not even a little bit.”

After a pause Toby asks, eyebrow raised, “Still think I've been fucking around?”

The grin turns into a sad smile as Chris replies, “Nah, baby. Not even a little bit.”

At ease now that they've cleared the air, Toby reaches back over to briefly squeeze Chris’ hand. With a small smile that Chris returns just as sweet, Toby offers, “How about we dig in to these delicious smelling and glorious looking burgers you spoke so fondly of?”

“Sounds like a plan.” And Chris wastes no time taking a huge bite that's roughly the size of half of the whole burger.

Toby follows suit though his bite not nearly as big. He moans as the perfect explosion of flavor fills his mouth.

“Watch it Tobe. I don't want to be jealous of a fucking burger,” Chris jokes.

“You getting jealous is still hot,” Toby grins around a mouthful of a really fucking delicious burger.

“Hey. Hey, mister,” Chris scolds as he point a fry at Toby, “Don't you be getting any ideas,” Chris swipes the fry through some ketchup, before popping it into his mouth.

After Toby swallows the deliciousness, “I wouldn't dream of it, baby,” he smiles, all teeth.

 

~*~

 

As Chris pulls the car into the lot for Toby's apartment building, he says, “Worst date ever, am I right,” with a joking tone but he knows Toby can tell his heart's not in it.

Toby smiles a fond little thing,“I wouldn't say that,” he squeezes Chris’ hand he has barely let go of all day. And when Chris sees that particular smile directed at him he can't help but melt.

Threading their fingers together, after they're parked, Chris returns the smile with a grin of his own but he can feel it whither away as he sighs, “Toby I brought you to a graveyard. Then to a bar, without thinking on how that might bother you.”

“Aw Chris, you know I think you're cute when you beat yourself up,” he reaches over and pinches Chris’ cheek lightly before it's swatted away playfully, “But, we both needed the trip to the grave. And the bar, well I know it just slipped your mind till we got there that I'm an alcoholic. And you took care of me,” Chris meets him for the light kiss when Toby leans closer. Breaking the chaste kiss,Toby continues with their foreheads pressed together, “And those burgers really were the most delicious thing I've ever put in my mouth.”

Chris can feel Toby's chuckle against his own lips as he growls out a, “Hey. Watch it,” a matching chuckle of his own.

Toby gives him another peck and when Chris tries to make it deeper Toby pulls away from the kiss, “Nuh, uh uh. I'm not done,” he pulls away more and Chris is embarrassed when he lets out a sad whine.

Good thing that Toby only left to unbuckle his seatbelt then he's back into Chris' space but a smidge closer.

Chris unbuckles his own and winds his arms around the slightly smaller man.

Toby wraps his hands around the back of Chris’ head, lightly scratching his scalp.

Chris moans, “Okay. Go on, before I get blue balls.”

“Oh we can't have that,” Toby nips at Chris bottom lip, evading Chris’ tongue that chases him to try to pull him into an actual kiss, “As I was saying, babe. It was the best date I've been on. Because it was with you--” Toby voice is cut off when Chris surges forward to take that long deep kiss he's been literally aching for.

Chris can tell Toby is having a hard time pushing Chris away from their shared kiss--they are both amazing kissers afterall and it feels so damn good. He must have built up enough self-control to do just that though. Breaking the kiss, but not going too far--his panting breaths mixing with Chris' own-- he continues, “If I have to fault one thing, it was that before the date my taxi driver was late and that was stressful. I wish I could get a license so I could drive to your place whenever I want.”

Feeling dumb, Chris pulls away just far enough to ask, "You can't drive?"

Looking away with shame filled eyes, Toby says, voice small, "No. I got out early by a few months for good behaviour but it had some restrictions I had to agree to. Not ever getting a license being one of them."

"Well fuck, Toby…," Chris didn't know what to say to that. So, he just dragged the other man closer letting Toby's head rest on his shoulder.

After a moment of silence just listening to each other breathe, Chris realises how insensitive he has been and he breaks that silence with, "I'm sorry."

Toby pulls outta Chris' arms, making Chris whine in protest, to look at him incredulously, "What are you on about? It's not your fault, Chris. It's just the hand I was dealt plus it was my actions that killed Kathy Rockwell."

Chris winces at the mention of the little girl Toby killed while driving drunk. Knowing how much her death hurts his lover, flares up a pang deep inside himself as well. "I know, Tobe," seeing hurt rise in his lover's eyes makes Chris sputter out, "That came out wrong. I know that it is not mainly on me. And it's not mainly on you either, babe," Chris puts his palm on Toby's cheek when he turns away in shame. "Look at me," Toby raises his glossy red rimmed eyes, Chris continues voice as soft and soothing as he possibly can, "It really isn't. And what I was apologizing for was that I coulda picked you up instead of having you pay to be driven all the way to my place. I shouldn't be making any of this fucked up situation harder on you. And I don't want to either."

"You'll drive me?"

"Yeah babe. If I'm not working, I don't mind being your personal chauffeur," Chris continues with a wink, relieved when his comment breaks the morose tension in the car and brings a amused laugh to Toby's lips.

"Plus," Chris starts as he kisses those very lips, "You can pay me if you want."

Toby returns the attention on his lips with some of his own, sucking Chris' tongue into his own mouth he whimpers as Chris does the same to his. Pulling away to catch his breath, Toby replies, "Hmm? Is that right? What would I be using as payment for such a generous and sexy man such as yourself?"

Chris can't help but laugh out loud as he runs an arm around Toby's waist to scoop him further into his lap, as far as the cramped car would allow anyway. His hand paws its way into the waistband of Toby's pants, until he can feel the crack of his lovely ass on his fingertips, "I have some ideas,"Chris throws a dirty grin.

"Is that right? Well since you're here,” Toby kisses along Chris’ neck, while rubbing his thumbs back and forth over Chris’ nipples causing him to moan probably loud enough for passerby to overhear. As he works Chris' body over, Chris does the same now having two hands squeezing the globes of his ass. And Toby continues to talk through his needy panting, "How about you come up for some coffee?” Chris can feel him smirk lavisciously into the next kiss.

Unable to stop himself from making a low chuckle, Chris replies, “Coffee hmm? I think we're passed first date cliches, babe. So yes I'll come up so we can get straight to the not-so-straight horizontal tango,” he whispers wetly in Toby's ear.

Toby laughs, “Then coffee after?”

“Coffee after.”

 

~*~

 

"Let's stay in bed all weekend,” Chris groans as he drapes himself over Toby, tucking his head under Toby's chin. Both of them sticky, sweaty, and sated.

Toby wraps his arms around him and tries to pull the other man impossibly closer, Chris doesn't mind. He'd live in Toby's skin if he could. Toby inquires, voice touched with concern, “You don't have work, Mr. Detective?”

“Oh that. My boss Cragen gave me some days to cool off after I throttled a cumstain pedo who raped a kid.”

“I'm guessing this isn't the first time you've lost your temper?”

Chris’ silence speaks volumes.

“If you keep this up can't you get suspended? Or even fired," Toby asks as he begins to rub his lover's back soothingly.

Chris is embarrassed when he mumbles a small and broken, “Yeah,” against Toby's bare chest.

Toby kisses Chris’ forehead and nuzzles against his thinning hair, “Aw Chris. I know they're all a bunch of scumfucks. But, if you get fired,” Chris starts to shy away, not wanting to hear another fucking lecture--even from Toby.

But, Toby's hold on him just gets firmer and he pushes Chris’ head to rest back on his chest. Chris doesn't fight him which he knows shows how much he cares for Toby as they both know he could break away from the other man any time, if he wanted to.

Toby scolds, “Don't you get mad at me. Listen. If you get fired from trying to teach them a lesson on your own terms, who is going to replace you? You are an amazing detective Chris, aren't you? So stop throwing tantrums and act like one.”

Chris places a kiss on Toby's chest. “Sorry, babe. I'll try.” After a pause he continues, “Maybe I should take up boxing,” Chris jokes but his heart's not in it. “Well actually when I was in the Navy, the strict training really let me work through my temper in a healthier way. So maybe boxing is actually a good idea, right?”

“Yeah Chris," Chris can feel Toby's smile and breath against his head as he forms the words, "Maybe I'll join you. And we can even wrestle too for old times sake.”

“Wrestle, huh? Isn't that what we were just doing?” Chris reaches down to grope Toby's firm yet soft thigh.

Toby laughs as he leans closer to the touch, “Well, since we're done “wrestling," do you want that coffee?”

“Hell's yeah,” Chris jumps out of the bed, naked as the day he was born. Unashamed of his body as his glorious ass is on display. He strolls to the open doorway, he looks over his shoulder, “You coming or what?”

Toby gets up, throws a robe on because he has something called "modesty." Chris would much prefer all that skin be displayed at all times-- _for his eyes only of course_ . But Toby walks covered up in the silky fabric, that luckily leaves nothing to the imagination, till he's standing in the doorway with Chris. Toby gives a small smirk, “I thought I did **that** , already?” He gives Chris’ ass a firm grope.

Chris throws his arm over Toby's shoulder and laughs, “Damn right you did.”

While drinking the piping hot coffee which is definitely an improvement from that Oz watered down sludge, Chris sits bare assed on the stool at the kitchen island.

Sitting on his expensive furniture bare-assed must not be a problem since Toby hasn't said anything against it. Plus, it seems Toby has been admiring the view. Sitting propped up on the stool next to Chris, an elbow leaning on the counter top. One finger of his angular hand, is lazily tracing up and down Chris forearm over his Navy tattoo: ruffling then smoothing the light hair there in tandem.

"It's weird seeing another tattoo on you," Toby says, eyes never leaving the intricate tattoo.

His hand moves fluidly up Chris' arm squeezing the muscles as he goes. He stops when his hands covers the crucifix on his tricep.

Moving his thumb back and forth over the inked skin, Toby says hushed, "And it's amazing how you have the same tattoos as before."

He tears his eyes away from where his hand lays, to look deep into Chris' eyes, Toby's filled with awe, "How'd you get this one?"

"Same as last time," Chris gasps out as Toby leans forward to place kisses against his tattooed skin.

Between the kisses, lips still grazing the skin, sending shivers up Chris' spine, Toby asks, "In Vegas?"

Chris shakes his head, feeling worshiped like a God as Toby's mouth continues its gratifying attention on Chris' body, moving up his shoulder to his neck. Chris moans, "Nah. I lied then," Toby bites deeply into the meat of where Chris' shoulder meets his neck in retaliation. Chris both loves the pain it brings and wants to hide away from the reason it was caused. Ashamed that he would ever lie to this beautiful man who loves him more than anyone. "Sorry babe. It was hard talking about the fact I got it at the end of being an alter boy."

Toby just licks to soothe the ache of the bite and then hums against the flesh of Chris' neck in understanding. As if he knows the bad experiences and abuse Chris had had to endure there. Before he escaped to drugs, violence, and crime.

And Chris is shocked outta his thoughts as he almost creams himself when Toby licks from his collarbone to his chin, sending little tingles of pleasure straight to his dick. Grazing Chris stubbled chin with his teeth, he asks, "And the butterfly?" As his hand wanders to the very tattoo, lightly brushing against Chris' weeping and hard dick on his way to stroking his inked inner thigh.

_Damn tease._

Chris growls in frustration and need as Toby continues his attention on the sensitive skin, ignoring his dick, Toby breaths wetly into Chris' ear, "How'd you get the butterfly this time?" He repeats as he bites and tugs on the lobe.

Chris keens, trying to get his brain to pay attention to the question and not the aching need between his legs, "Lost a bet in college. Fuck it hurt and Kathy fucking hated it. She thought I had some bitch on the side to show it off to. Wouldn't let me touch her for weeks and then she would never look at it."

Toby hums again but Chris can tell he's irritated. He's now tense and has stopped the delicious strokes of his hands on Chris' skin.

The man always shows his heart on his sleeve. It's what made him an easy target in Oz in the first place. Now though, the jealousy practically leaks outta Toby's pores from hearing Chris mention his ex-wife.

Chris knows what to do though, as he initiates a kiss. Starting chaste and sweet, then he licks at the rim of his lover's lips. They open wantonly to give Chris access to roam deeply in with his tongue.

As they kiss, Toby moans loudly and the hand on the tattooed thigh finally moves up to firmly stroke up and down Chris' dick. He could weep with relief, it feels so fucking good.

When he feels he's about to blow his load into Toby's perfectly tight hand, Toby let's go.

Chris growls as Toby also stops their kiss.

Wanting to throw the other man across the counter to really give it to him for all this teasing, Chris is pleasantly surprised when Toby climbs into his lap, he holds on tight  and laughs as the stool almost topples over.

Biting Chris' bottom lip, his own lewdly red and spit slicked, he seductively says, “All your tattoos are definitely sexy. But I don't care what anyone else thinks, the butterfly will always be my favorite and no one besides me needs to see it.”

Chris knows his face is lit up with mirth at those words as a deep chuckle escapes his mouth between shallow kisses, before Toby sticks his long ass tongue down his throat.

Toby's ass rubs against Chris' raging hardon and he groans loudly into the kiss.

As he slips inside Toby, the man's hole still wet from their earlier activities, through the intense pleasure Chris feels when he thrusts as deep as he possibly can inside, without them both falling to the floor, Chris thinks, " _Life can't get any better than this_."

 

~*~

 

The ring of a phone blares throughout the apartment.

And disrupts the satisfaction Toby feels as he still holds onto Chris even after they both climaxed. Chris tenses up, probably now realising what the loud urgent noise is. And his limp cock slips out of Toby's body along with a hefty dose of his cum. And Toby nearly falls to the floor as Chris scrambles out from under him where he was still straddling Chris on the stool. Luckily Toby finds his footing as Chris tumbles off the now well used, stained and wobbly piece of furniture, causing it to crash to the floor. Chris runs outta the room in his naked sticky glory to chase down his cellphone in his clothes.

Toby enjoys the view.

When Chris is out of sight, Toby grabs his mug, taking a small sip of the still full cup of coffee as he walks calmly--enjoying the slight ache in his ass--to his bedroom. He hears Chris answer his phone with a firm, "Stabler."

Leaning in the doorway, coffee mug warming his hands, Toby watches and waits.

He can overhear the muffled tone of a woman's voice on the other side of the call. Toby would feel a tad jealous if not for the fact that an obvious irritation shows itself both on Chris' face and voice as he grumbles out, "I'm on leave, what do you want, Liv.. yes I am busy...a new case?...well why can't Finn cover?" Chris sighs, "Fine. But you know I don't like dealing with those Navi fucks," Chris looks like he's going to be sick and before he even thinks to move, Toby is at his side: a comforting hand on Chris' shoulder.

Chris' eyes give Toby a silent thank you as he brings his hand not holding the phone to caress over Toby's. "Can't this info wait till I get there?...yeah like I need to know over the phone they carved into this poor lady's chest," Chris hisses sarcastically. And Toby winces at the image those words bring. Chris must've noticed because he pulls Toby's hand off his shoulder to bring to his lips, to silently and gently kiss the back of the hand in comfort.

Chris continues to listen to the woman scold over the phone, "And yeah, of course I know that's horrible. You don't need to tell me twice, Liv. Fine you can tell me the victim's name if you want it to eat at me till I get my ass over there, sure…," the color drains from Chris' face but he manages to croak out, "I'll be there within the hour." He flips the phone shut without acknowledging the reply.

He looks to Toby, his expression full of shock, but he lets out a humorless laugh, "Claire Howell was gangraped and murdered by Nazis."

Toby is sure his expression matches Chris': face as white as a sheet.

"Oh, fuck," a crazy cackle builds up in his throat.

Chris' large, strong arms wrap around Toby and pull him into his warm firm chest. Toby latches on and his giggling meanders off.

He mumbles into Chris' love marked neck, "So when were you gonna give me your cellphone number?" He tries to joke but it lands flat.

Chris huffs a short laugh anyway, "Sorry it slipped my mind," he tightens his hold on Toby, "So as soon as you let go and find me a pen."

Toby chuckles at the contradicting behavior but he returns the embrace just as tight, enjoying the comfort it brings, "So, never then."

Chris snorts in amusement but starts to run a soothing hand up and down Toby's spine like he knows what the other man is thinking.

  
_"Getting outta Oz doesn't mean it will ever get outta your life."_

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The plot thickens...


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Chris goes into work. And Toby can't stop the feeling of dread.  
> Like if he doesn't go after him, he will never see Chris again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey this fic got a translation! *does happy dance*  
> So for those who would prefer to read it in Russian the amazing [Catwolf](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Catwolf/pseuds/Catwolf) translated it and you can read [here](https://archiveofourown.org/works/19743292/chapters/46728745)!
> 
> Not beta'd so all mistakes are my own. I'll be reading through after I post and fix any I catch. 
> 
> Thank you and enjoy :)

Pulling a borrowed blazer on to match the suit, Chris gives himself a once over and sees that the grey looks much better on him than brown. He never should have trusted Kathy's fashion sense because men's clothing is definitely not her specialty.

Though the shoulders are a little tight, it fits almost perfect everywhere else. Chris would be a little surprised but Toby has gotten much more muscular and he's only a smidge shorter than Chris. His taste is impeccable too--obviously since he loves the taste of this, Chris internally gestures to himself with a chuckle. And the quality is obviously expensive judging by the way it hugs his waist and the softness of the fabric.

As he straightens his navy cashmere tie _(cashmere_ , he never thought he'd be saying that), Chris is startled when he hears Toby breaking out in genuine laughter. And that is definitely an improvement after the maniacal laughter from the shock phone call back to the memory lane to _Oz_.

Chris knows that Toby has some idea that Howell forced Chris into sex. And that day when he refused, she beat him half to death. And they both heard what she threatened to do with Cyril. It makes him sick even worse to his stomach at the thought of her touching him, pretty much a child. So yeah, _ding dong the witch is dead._  

But even if Chris hates that rapist bitch's guts he'll still find the sick fucks who ripped them outta her body.

He spots Toby with his shoulders shaking in laughter by the king size bed. And who needs a king size bed, anyway? Chris is happy sharing a queen or even a twin, all the more reason to cuddle closer together.

Shaking out of his thoughts on furniture, not wanting to miss out on the joke that is amusing Toby so much, Chris rushes over. And now closer, he sees that Toby is now dressed casually, yet has another pair of jeans in his hands.

Curiosity gets the better of him. So, Chris peers over Toby's shoulder (first enjoying the sweet sandalwood scent of Toby's damp hair. His own smelling the same as they took a shower together), Chris smirks lavashiously at the memory, only to scowl at what he sees in Toby's hands.

Obviously noticing Chris' reaction at the piece of paper with the words, "Call me" scrawled on with a phone number and signed with "Luke" and a winky face of all things, Toby continues to laugh even harder. Which in turn makes Chris scowl harder at the teasing.

But then Toby throws the jeans and the paper to the ground like an unwanted receipt and wraps his arms around Chris' neck. Even a little irritated, Chris automatically finds his hands on Toby's hips. 

And the obvious mirth and amusement in Toby's eyes makes Chris start to chuckle a bit himself, "That kid sure is something," both impressed by Luke's tenacity and annoyed by his lack of integrity at giving his digits to a taken man.

"Something is right," Toby laughs, probably on the same wavelength as Chris, leaning in to brush those chuckles against Chris' own.

Chris puts a stop to those chuckles by dragging those lips into a deep kiss, tasting of mint toothpaste.

Toby melts into the kiss for a moment before Chris feels him place his hand on Chris' chest to push him lightly away.

Chris doesn't go far just moves his ministrations to Toby's neck.

Working on making a sizeable hickey, Chris hears Toby say, amusement still tingeing his voice, "What I don't understand is how he got it in the back pocket of my jeans."

Chris stops with a growl both happy about the deep color and large size of the mark he made to claim his lover and pissed that some guy had touched his Toby's ass. 

That belongs to _Chris_. 

Meeting Toby again has had Chris' emotions all over the place. He's not a PMSing woman for fuck's sake!

So Chris just settles on scooping up Toby, who is still mischievously amused by the situation and who laughs as he is tossed into the ridiculously and unnecessarily large bed.

Chris uses the time as he strips his lover as he teasingly laughs, to stake his claim with plenty more marks.

Work can wait an extra half hour. He's supposed to be on leave anyway.

 

~*~

 

Toby straightens the lapels on the blazer of the suit he let Chris borrow. In awe and elated he gets to do something so domestic with Chris. He dreamed of it in Oz but he knew it would never be possible.

Toby was wrong about that though as he is now patting Chris' chest lovingly and he says, "There. Perfect," he smiles when his words give Chris a bashful expression, "Now keep it on this time. You should've been at work already. You told that woman, whoItrustyoutohavejustastrictlyworkplatonicrelationshipwith, that you were gonna be right over," he scolds but his cheeks flame up at Chris' pleased expression at Toby's possessiveness.

"Yeah babe," he plants a kiss on Toby's nose which he certainly enjoys doing since he does it so often. Toby secretly finds it cute as well since it's such an innocent gesture over the sexy bravado he practically permeates. Chris continues, "I won't have my way with you again till after work," he wraps his arms around Toby to give him what is their signature kiss.

Pulling away reluctantly Toby smiles when Chris opens the door with a smirk, "See ya later, babe," he winks.

And weirdly enough instead of being warmly amused by his lover's antics a chill goes down his spine and a dark pit fills his stomach.

And he can't help but think _this is goodbye._

Even as he is sick to his stomach in worry, he pushes the unusual dread aside. With the biggest smile he can give, he does a little sloppy salute, "See ya, officer sexy," Toby lands a peck onto Chris' smile, before he leaves through the door.

"Now go get your beautiful ass over there and save some lives," Toby calls after him in an exuberant tone he does not feel.

Chris' laughter that echoes down the hall is answer enough.

But Toby can't help but feel very alone.

_Like that would be the last time he would hear that beautiful laugh._

It takes him a few minutes to move.

And move he does, as he runs to his bedroom and pulls on some socks and shoes. Sweat beading off his forehead anxiously.

He looks out his window to see if Chris has left yet and the dark scared pit inside builds as Chris' car is seen pulling out into the road.

"Fuck," Toby swears, throat all choked up.

He slides across his bed with its rumpled cum-stained sheets to get to his phone. He dials with trembling fingers.

"Hello. Yes. I'd like a taxi."

 

~*~

 

 _Chaos_.

Chaos is a good word to describe the precinct right about now.

Pushing down the temptation to turn back around, jump back in his car, and drive back to Toby's loving arms, Chris walks forward with a long aggravated groan.

He shoves his way through the reporters outside who are yelling questions about the "Swastika Murder." And if he thought fighting through them is a pain in the ass and the inside is gonna be any better, he is only partially right.

No reporters is always a plus. But the place is overcrowded with uniformed cops in the mix and each desk has piles high of files.

He makes out Cragen glooming just outside his office and he shoves his way through the crowd to get over to him.

Standing next to his boss, they watch the hectic mess of their workplace in silent horror.

Chris is the first to speak, "What the fu--heck is going on?"

Cragen lifts an eyebrow while giving Chris the side eye, "The precinct has had a pipe burst. It was on another side of the building but they are dispersing the officers whose usual work place was affected, throughout the building. Until they can set up vans for them"

Exasperated, Chris exclaims, “Again? Didn't they just repair those like a year ago? The departments really need to get new plumbers 'cause there is something suspicious about them or they are completely incompetent."

Cragen morosely replies, "I couldn't agree more." And the glint in his eye would alarm Chris but this time he knows it's not directed at him. Those plumbers are going to be getting a Caption Cragen Special Scolding. Good for them. It's about time someone else gets a lecture.

After a minute of silence, Cragen obviously not wanting to deal with this situation and Chris not knowing where to go since he doesn't see his partner who called him here (who had the gall to not tell Chris that this shit fest was happening down here) or even his desk. Did they move it? Did they hide it? Is someone using it for a nap?

Cragen speaks up, "Stabler…" Uh oh. Last name basis. This can't be good. He turns that expression he's been giving the room to his (best) detective, "Why are you here?"

He starts to answer, "Bens--, but stops abruptly.

Oh there, speaking of his partner. She's making her way over, a deep frown embedded on her face. So instead of answering, Chris gestures to her.

Bensen pipes up as she gets close, "I called him in."

Cragen turns a glower at her, "He's on leave. I don't appreciate you undermining my decisions. Do you want to be on leave as well? Suspension perhaps?"

"No sir...it won't happen again."

When Chris is about to come to Benson's defense, he catches familiar honey blonde hair out of the corner of his eye.

Toby couldn't look more like he walked into a den of wolves if he tried.

His eyes are frightened and his body language is frantic.

As he is whipping his head around looking for something. Even a scared mess Toby is still a sight for sore eyes. Jeans that hug his hips and a blue button up that brings out the color of his eyes and with sleeves rolled up, displaying his delectable forearms.

The eyes stop searching when they meet Chris' and they instantly calm down. His body relaxing in relief. Chris knowing a smile fills his face, excuses himself from Bensen and Cragen as he makes his way over to Toby.

And Toby starts to move forward as well. As if a magnetic force is pulling them together.

That magnetic pull is interrupted by a young man in a black hoodie shoving Toby aside.

 _His_ Toby aside.

Well that's not acceptable.

But before Chris or even Toby judging the crazy irritated look in his eye, can tell the guy off, the guy meets Chris' eyes with hatred filled ones of his own.

"ELLIOT STABLER," he shouts and the crowd disperses to the sides of the room as if to show this asshole exactly where Chris is. Crowd mentality sure is a scary thing. Never woulda thought a room full of trained cops would fall into it so easily. But they are only human, right?

Now back to the asshole, he starts an angry tirade, "You put my brother away when it was that whore that seduced him. She deserved what came to her and now he's rotting in prison. Because of you!" His face is bright red in fury and his eyes dark in loathing.

He continues his speech even as Bensen and Finn are creeping up to subdue him. But he pays them no mind, "You took away his everything! And I'll take everything away from you!" before Bensen or Finn can get close enough or even pull out their firearms, the man whips out one of his own and points it right at Chris.

And Chris is internally freaking out not because of the danger to himself but he can't find Toby in his field of vision. And he prays it's because the man found somewhere to hide before this blows over.

So Chris wanting the man to keep the gun trained on him and not randomly start shooting, starts to raise his hands. He doesn't even have a chance to get his hands up before the asshole is pulling the trigger.

Then there's a blur of blonde and blue that tackles the man and the gun goes off.

The scream of "Toby!" dies on Chris' lips when he collapses to the floor in pain.

 

~*~

 

The sound of Toby's scream of "Chris!" is so loud it pierces through the lightheadedness and it sounds like it was torn out of Toby's throat. Harsh, desperate, and loud as all fuck.

Chris sits up, a sharp pain in his arm glaring up brightly and sees an angry Finn cuffing the asshole who dared to shoot a cop at a station.

The slick warm feeling of the blood drenching and dripping down is uncomfortable.

It hurts like a bitch too but not even close to the pain of an actual bullet wound or getting shanked.

He feels someone behind him helping him up and before he can offer his thanks, Toby's face covered in tears of relief is near inches away from his own.

"Aw Tobe. I'm okay. It's okay," Chris says as he pulls him into a one armed hug. Trying to balance it into something between a friend hug and one of there's. He doesn't need everyone knowing they're _gay_ lovers. Some people can be jackasses.

That thought is thrown out the window when Toby just hugs him tighter. And Chris is so thankful his Toby does it in a way not to jarr his arm. Chris returns the embrace just as strong as he can at the moment and repeats, "I'm okay... I wouldn't say the same about your shirt and blazer though," trying to lighten the mood but it falls short when Toby mumbles, "You're worth way more than 10 grand... you're worth everything."

Well Chris always thought he was worth less than shit. More than a 10 grand suit sure is a step up. But worth _everything_ well that is just _amazing_. 

And so Chris just smiles as he holds _his everything_ in his arms.

So luckily that bullet that missed Chris didn't hit anyone else--probably 'cause the jackasses stayed away from him like he had the plague. And it had embedded itself inside the wall.

And so, after all the shit situation is settled. The asshole in a cell. Mostly everyone moved out 'cause the vans finally showed up to house as temp offices. Toby waiting at Chris' desk which was found under miles of paperwork that belonged to a whole other department. Chris, wearing only an undershirt, now leaning against it as he has the gauze put over the stitched up shallow wound. The wrecked blazer and shirt lying over Toby's lap. 

"It really wasn't that much blood, Toby. Stop freaking out," Chris grimaces as he foolishly rotates his arm as the medic leaves. Toby pouts more in reply, a death grip on the bloodstained clothes.

As Chris pops some pain-killers and is about to comment on how cute Toby's pouty lip is, Cragen comes over and asks if he can see him in his office, then turns around and heads toward it.

Chris shoots Toby a sheepish yet reassuring grin, "Be right back, Tobe. I got some snacks in the third drawer if you're hungry." 

Toby replies in the form of a smile, a small wobbly thing, with a nod.

Chris wanting to get this over with, rushes toward his captain's office. Once inside he's alarmed when Cragen has him shut the door and is equally surprised when Cragen opens with, "What is your relationship with that man?"

As he takes a seat across where Cragen looms authoritative in his own, feeling like a kid who got called in to the principal's office, Chris decides to play dumb, "The asshole in the hoodie? None. I got his bro locked up. Didn't you hear his villain rant before he shot me?"

Cragen just gives Chris an unimpressed look and raises his eyebrows as if to tell Chris, _"Bitch please. Do I look like an idiot to you? We both know I meant that sweet ass man who had his hands all over your equally sweet ass."_

Okay maybe not those exact words but the message is the same. And attempting to humor-ize the situation is making Chris less nervous.

Chris sighs as Cragen continues to give him that look, "Okay, fine. That's Tobias Beecher. Goes by Toby. He's a friend of mine from the choir who," Chris didn't even know why Toby is here. So he goes with, "needed a ride home."

"He sure went out of his way, even risked his _life_ to save someone who is _just_ a friend from _choir_."

"What can I say? I sing like an angel," Chris winks.

"Try again."

Chris can feel his expression harden into a blank mask. Clenching his teeth, "We're. Just. Friends."

"Try. Again."

Chris lets out a groan of frustration, "God, you're killing me captain. Even if let's say we are "more than friends" what are you gonna do about it. Suspend me? Fire me? For loving someone who is brave and amazing and loves me so much that he would throw himself in the line of fire for me time and time again. You'd punish me for doing the most good of human actions--to love?"

Chris realizes that was the most embarrassing and sappy thing he's ever said and his cheeks aflame but he keeps his expression determined.

"I am not," Cragen replies simply.

"What?...then what was the point of my cheesy as fu-- heck speech?"

"No point," Cragen smirks "but it was nice to see you so passionate about something other than punching skels in the face or lockers when you can't."

"Then why was I called in here?"

"I got a complaint--

"A compl--," now his cheeks are aflame in anger.

"Let me finish," Cragen orders. And Chris clamps his mouth shut, seething. But after seeing Chris silent and attentive, Cragen continues, "So I got a complaint from one of the officers that saw yours and Mr. Beecher's display. It was touching really. But you know some small minded people have issues. I brought you in to inform you that I. Will. Not. Tolerate. Any discriminatory behavior in my precinct. That, I explained to the officer that he shouldn't be concerning himself with something so minor, when he let someone into the building with a gun. That, while he stood and did nothing in the situation, a civilian helped apprehend a criminal and saved lives. I told him instead of being a jackass he should be doing his job."

"Captain...Th--

Cragen holds up a hand, "No thanks necessary, Elliot," he smiles, " _I_ was just doing _my_ job."

Chris smiles back.

"Now introduce me to the terribly reckless but heroic man of the day."

"Yes, sir."

The adorable deer in headlights expression on Toby when Cramer holds out his hand to shake his, made this whole day worth it.

 

~*~

 

On the way back to Toby's place with the man of the hour in tow. Since, after making small talk with Toby,  Cragen made it his mission to get Chris back on leave. "I don't care that Bensen called you because of the recent case. I put her and Finn on it. So go take a break for once. I've seen the last day off did you some good. As that suit, though ruined, is definitely new and a vast improvement to your work wardrobe. Now get outta my precinct and I don't wanna see your mug till next week. You've just been shot after disobeying. See this as a lesson to follow my orders next time."

Pulling unto the next street, Chris gives a glance to his passenger--who has Chris' hand delicately held between both of his own: so gentle and sweet as if Chris is made of glass. And since Chris has been wondering something, he speaks up, "Tobe, not that I'm not happy to see you 'cause I always am. Plus you saved my ass. But what were you doing there anyway?"

Toby stares at his hands around Chris'  as he clasps it nervously. In a small timid voice he answers, "Well... when you left and said goodbye, I had a bad feeling."

"What like a chill or something?"

"Maybe...no...not really...just this knowledge that if I didn't go after you…" he stops but continues voice wobbly, "...I...wouldn't see you again."

"Aw, Tobe..." and before Chris can give words of comfort to reassure him, Toby's phone rings.

Chris doesn't think anyone has ever treated him with such care, as Toby patiently places Chris hand back on his own thigh with a lovely caress, before he slowly pulls away to reach into his pocket for his phone.

He answers it with the standard "Beecher." But Toby's voice softens to more casual with, "Oh, hey, Gussie. Yes, I'm on my way home now. Yeah...Mmm hmm. Wait she cried 'cause she missed me? Yeah bring them over. Is mother upset? Oh...okay thanks. See ya soon. Bye."

He shoves it back in his pocket and grabs back onto Chris' hand, still gentle as he brings it back over to his own lap. And he rubs his thumb across Chris' knuckles in a comforting manner.

Chris speaks up kindly before Toby can explain the phone call, "So your bro and rugrats are coming over? Don't worry, you can strip me to see if I have other injuries next time. I'll just drop you off."

"No wait, Chris... can't you... don't you want to meet them?" He quickly stammers, "I mean I want you too. They're great kids. And Gussie can be a little...snooty but he's a good guy. And you're an amazing guy. And I love you. And I love them. But you don't have to. No pressu--

"Shhhh...calm down. I'll meet em. No worries. I don't mind. It's just I was unsure how'd you'd introduce me to your brother with me looking exactly like "Chris" your dead lover and all."

Toby shouldn't look so cute with his mouth opened like a fish, obviously not having thought of how'd he'd explain their situation. 

For such a intelligent man, Toby can be so adorably dumb.

Then the perfect introduction comes to mind. Like one of those cartoon light bulbs. And a mischievous chuckle breaks through Chris' lips., "Don't worry, Tobe. Leave the talking to me."

 

~*~

 

Maybe starting with, "Hey, you must be Angus! I'm Elliot Stabler. Replacement for Chris Keller (no relation) as Toby-boy here's lover," wasn't the best idea when Toby's brother and kids first walk in the apartment. 

The hilarious shocked expression is definitely worth it though. While Toby is being super sweet hugging and chatting with his kids. 

All the while paying him and Angus no mind, so Chris continues his introduction, “I sure make a nice rebound. And I'm just as good in bed as the original. If only Chris were here. I'm sure Toby would enjoy being in that meat sandwich,” he winks at Angus. Toby must've heard something because he looks right at Chris to roll his eyes. But Chris can see his flushed cheeks from here.

Angus' face is the same, red as a tomato. And yep, Chris made the situation as awkward as possible; no one decent would want to ask questions after that.

Well except Harry apparently who chirps up innocently, "Dad, you're making sandwiches?"

Scratch that. Now it's as awkward as possible.

Toby and Angus display they are definitely brothers when they both put their faces in their hands, with exasperated groans.

 

Chris smirks at a job well done.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you enjoyed!  
> Comments and kudos are my life blood lol


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sandwiches, card games, cuddles, coffee, and epic kite battles.  
> Yeah that about sums it up.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey, everyone!  
> Sorry for the long ass wait!  
> RL has been kicking my ass lately and I've had to spend my time kicking its ass back. Lol
> 
> I hope it doesn't seem too rushed. I compiled it together when I finally had the time. It is a rather long chapter compared to some of the previous ones so I hope that is appreciated. :)
> 
> So there is a lot of fluff and a little angst.  
> I hope you enjoy! :D
> 
> Unbeta'd so all mistakes are my own :)

They end up having sandwiches after that, anyway.

Holly keeps hammering Chris with questions--her long blonde ponytail bouncing on each word--like, "Mr. Stabler, why do you have tattoos? They're cool. I like them. My dad won't let me get one even though there is a girl in my class who has like six," and, "Why do you have bandages? Are you hurt? Did you go to the hospital? Did you know that more people leave the hospital sick, than one's that go there sick in the first place?"  
Harry nods along with her questions--his longish dark hair waving into his face-- like he is saying he wants the answers as well. But he won't give up munching on his PB&J to ask any questions himself.

Toby watches fondly as his kids pretty much maul his lover with questions: eating a sandwich himself, it piled high with a wide arrange of sliced meats. Chris shakes his head amused when Toby slides a plate with an identical sandwich toward him.  
Chris winks at Toby, knowing his mischievous lover did it on purpose to aggravate the very quiet Angus. Whose face is still incredibly red, and who is glaring at Toby's sandwich as he eats a cucumber one himself. Chris doesn't think anyone in their right mind would be eating a watery veggie between bread. But Chris is glad to see that Angus seems to have relaxed around him a little.

Then once the table is clear of crumbs and plates, they start a series of surprisingly competitive games of Go Fish that Harry demanded they play.

Holly really doesn't like to lose. Like when she asks Chris sweetly, "Mr. Stabler, sir, do you have an eight?" And when he says he doesn't she gives him a glare like he kicked a puppy and picks up a card from the pile aggressively before perking up when it's the card she wants. Only to start asking sweetly again.

Also, Harry likes to try to put extra cards up his sleeve when he goes "fishing." Only for them to spill out and he flashes them a sheepish smile, "Oops," with a shrug before Holly snatches the cards roughly and shuffles them into the deck with a, "Seriously, Harry? Again? Be serious, this isn't a _game_." Which just makes everyone including Harry to burst into giggles.

Angus tends to throw his cards at Toby when Toby gets a pair through him. A particular Ace of spades hits Toby right in the eye but he laughs triumphantly through the pain as he combines it with the Ace of hearts.

And Toby pouts at Chris when Chris doesn't have his card. Until Chris relents and tilts his cards so Toby can see. He takes full advantage of Chris' generosity and ends up winning a few games that way, until the others catch on. And Holly exclaims, "Dad! How could you? You cheater! And taking advantage of poor Mr. Stabler. That's just wrong."  
Toby apologizes and promises to stop "taking advantage of poor Mr. Stabler," which they can all barely make out the words through Toby's snickers and the banging of his fist on the table in his amusement.

Later, after the kids are put to bed, Angus also decides to suddenly turn in for the night in the guest room once Chris is snuggled up close to Toby on the sofa.

After the door to the guest room is slammed closed, "Alone at last," Chris waggles his eyebrows. But he really did enjoy hanging out with Toby's kids--it made him miss his own set of brats but it was nice--and Angus isn't that bad once that stick up his ass got loosened a little.

Toby smiles at Chris' flirting but his eyes look distraught: watery and scared.

"Aw, Tobe. What's wrong," Chris kisses Toby's forehead as he pulls the man into his arms.

Toby struggles till he lets go and Chris tries his damn hardest to not feel hurt from that.

But Toby just turns more to face Chris better, pulling his socked feet up onto the cushions.

He looks ready to burst into tears and Chris resists the urge to pull him into a comforting hug again.

Toby mouth opens to say something but he clacks it shut and leans forward.

Chris turns his head ready for a kiss but is surprised when Toby's face goes toward his arm instead.

The gauze looks a little bloody but Toby gives that no mind as he presses the gentlest of kisses onto where the wound would be underneath it.

And Chris just _melts_. Just as he did in Oz all those years ago.

He cards his fingers through Toby's soft hair and gives his cheek by his ear a feather light kiss of his own, "You know, Tobe. They stab me. They shoot me. I ain't going down."

And Toby jerks his head up abruptly, almost clocking his head into Chris' chin.

His eyes are wide and before Chris can say anything, Toby uses both his hands to pull Chris' head forward into a demanding kiss.

Chris gives as good as he is getting and he swoops his uninjured arm around Toby's waist to scoop him into his lap.

After what felt like hours of comforting kisses, they have rearranged themselves. Chris is now laying down, head cozy on a decorative pillow. And Toby is using his pecs as one as he lays over his body, one leg thrown over Chris'. The blanket from the back of the sofa now strewn across both of them for warmth.

Chris runs a soothing hand up and down Toby's back. And then he lets out an embarrassingly loud and pleased purr when Toby places a kiss on his chest where the gunshot wound from a lifetime ago was. As if nodding from a job well done, Toby relaxes back against Chris' chest, letting out a quiet purr of his own as Chris continues rubbing the curve of his back.

And only once Toby's breath evens out, does Chris allow sleep to engulf him as well.

 

~*~

 

Chris wakes with a smile.

He gets a tad light headed when he reaffirms he is in an actual bed with Toby.  
No guards.  
No inmates planning their demise.  
No parole to seperate them.  
Just him and Toby who had earlier this morning both made their half awake commute from the narrow sofa to fall back asleep on the more comfy and spacious bed.

Turning to gaze at the man on his mind, Chris' smile broadens.

Toby is still curled over his chest like a satiated house cat. A few strands of his hair have fallen into his face. And as he exhales they move along with each breath.  
Tucking the hair gently behind Toby's ear, Chris doesn't think Toby would appreciate waking up to the hairs tickling his nose, as cute as that would be.

_Everything is perfect._

Well...everything would be perfect, if his bladder isn't so full he'd be pissing all over himself and Toby within the next few minutes if he doesn't get up now.  
Part of Chris thinks that would be a twisted humorous way for Toby to wake up to. But as far as Chris knows, Toby ain't into water sports, though he can hold his breath an awful long time.  
Chris internally laughs at his inappropriate puns.  
Before he remembers why he was making them in the first place when his bladder starts banging on the door in urgency.

As graceful as he can Chris slides out from underneath his lover, trying his best not to wake him.  
Toby grumbles a bit and Chris tries not to be irritated when those grumbles become contented coos in the face of snuggling Chris' abandoned pillow instead.  
He just pulls the covers higher up on Toby's shoulders, kisses his forehead, and practically runs to hit the head.

He sighs in relief when he makes it there without incident. It's a good thing Chris has practice pissing with a hard-on or this situation coulda got messy.

After that business is taken care of, Chris decides while Toby is still in bed sleeping--and cuddling that sorry excuse for a Chris replacement pillow--to snoop a little around the house.  
The kids are still asleep and he has no idea where Angus went. As the guest bedroom door is open and empty. The bed is made to perfection as if no one had slept in it at all.

Chris just shrugs and he swaggers over to the mantle in the living room. And inspects the many framed photos adorning it.

First, in the middle is a large one of Gary. That sweet boy with his large innocent eyes and soft blonde hair. The smile on his face is so bright and Chris never thought a picture would break his heart so much.  
He tries to imagine what Toby felt when he put it in the frame and placed it on this mantle.  
And he can't.  
He remembers Toby screaming and sobbing back at Oz. He remembers how raw Toby's grief was that he wasn't thinking straight and that fuck Schillinger was able to manipulate him like putty into betraying Chris.

Those were some dark days.

And Chris swears there will never be a repeat of them. And he will never let anyone hurt Toby's children again. Over his 2nd dead fucking body.  
And if anyone hurt Toby, their bodies would be _actually_ fucking impossible to find unlike the sloppy job Pancamo's lacky did with Schillinger's son's.

He turns away from Gary and continues to look at the pictures.  
There's one of Holly and Harry which makes him smile. They must have been somewhere to get their faces painted because Holly has butterfly wings on hers and Harry has whiskers and ears painted on his forehead to look like a cat. Harry looks to be attempting to hiss and Holly is rolling her eyes fondly at her adolescent little brother.

And then there's one of Toby where he looks like he was about to block the camera but it captured his huge ass grin before he probably could snatch it away from his kids. It makes Chris laugh a little and he makes a mental note to ask Toby about it later

The next photo gives Chris pause.

There's one of _Chris_.

He looks younger than he does now.

Thinner and harder.

He doesn't even know when it was taken.  
He looks to be sitting in front of the tv judging by the head phones. But he knows who must've taken it, even if he doesn't remember. He's only ever looked at one person like that. His eyes are pointed directly at the camera and they are soft just like the fond smile on his face.  
When the fuck did Toby bring a camera in?

"That's the man he loves."

Chris internally jumps a foot and his hand reaches for where his gun would be on his belt.  
He forces himself to relax and gives a lazy grin to Angus, who is standing aways behind him holding a tray with three coffees and a paper bag.

Sensing the hostile attitude, Chris smiles, instead of rising to the obvious baited statement, "Oh, really? Handsome devil, wasn't he?" And before Angus can reply, Chris continues with his friendly tone, "Is that coffee?"

"Uh…," Angus looks taken aback from Chris' lack of reaction and he goes with a puzzled, "Yes...it is."

"Cool, cool. Thanks, pal," he takes two of the steaming cups and yells toward the hallway to Toby's room, "Hey, babe! Gussie got us breakfast!"

Chris doesn't need to look to know there is a very pronounced frown on Angus' face.

 

~*~

 

After breakfast, where the kids had been fighting over the last donut. And Chris could see though Toby ripped it in half for them to share, he was licking his lips like he wanted it but wouldn't say.  
So Chris had shoved the rest of his own donut into Toby's mouth. Though he seemed indignant in his surprise, Toby hummed in delight from the taste and licked his lips afterword. Chasing the taste of the sugary goodness.

Chris had to push down his sudden desire to also chase the taste on Toby's lips with his own. Toby seemed to catch on to the obvious want in Chris' eyes as his pupils blew. And his eyes darted to stare at Chris' tongue peeking out from his mouth.  
And Chris' very active boner died when Angus cleared his throat loudly. And Toby jumped away from Chris with a barely audible squeak.

Holly asked, voice full of concern if her dad was alright, obviously scared he might have been choking on his food. Which had Chris huff out a laugh which resulted in him choking on his spit and coughing rather unattractively, he assumes.

So that was this morning.

Now Angus has been called in to work. He had given the kids and Toby each a hug and he made sure to give Chris the stink eye while he walked out the door.

Harry then ran to his room only to come out with a kite and an excited, "Dad! Can we go fly these at the park today? Please?"

Toby obviously couldn't say no to those puppy eyes, definitely when Holly ran and grabbed hers and joined in with the pleas.

So, Toby is currently rummaging through his closet after having had a shower. And the kids are also getting ready.  
Well Harry has been ready for a while, he took like 5 minutes tops. So he's been playing a handheld video game on the couch waiting for everyone else to finish showering or whatever Holly has been taking forever doing.  
Even to this day, Chris still doesn't understand why it takes women so long to pick out clothes, brush their hair, or whatever else it is they do.

Chris' chest is bare as he is drying his hair with his towel. Having taken a shower with Toby but having gotten out and partially dressed first--Toby like Holly sure takes way too long to pick out clothes when he has a variety....unlike in Oz when he had only a few shirts and loved that green one to _death_.  
As he tosses his towel onto the chair in Toby's bedroom and goes to grab one of Toby's t-shirts that he picked to throw on, the ringing of a phone goes off.  
Chris' hand automatically goes to the pocket of his pants and sees that it's not his phone receiving a call.  
Then he spots Toby's phone laying on the night stand. Chris calls in the direction of the walk-in closet, "Hey, Tobe. Your phone's ringing!"

But when he doesn't get a reply, Chris just shrugs and decides to pick it up for him with a, "Hello.Tobias Beecher's phone."

"You're not Beecher," a husky voice that sounds incredibly familiar echoes through the line.

"Alverez?" The name slips out before Chris can think overwise.

After a moment of silence, "No... it can't be...Keller?"

Before Chris can reply to make an excuse of some kind, Toby comes into the room, drying his hair with a towel, one wrapped around his hips, his chest bare, and a bundle of clothes tucked under one arm.

Chris doesn't have the time to slowly enjoy the delicious view--seeing as Toby decided to get dressed out here and cause all of Chris' blood to rush outta his head to below his belt--before he panics and practically throws the phone at Toby. His heart is hammering in his chest and Chris doesn't know if it's from Alverez recognizing his voice or from the feast in front of his eyes.

Toby's face is scrunched up, perplexed but he puts the phone to his face and asks, "Hello?...oh Alverez?" His eyes bug out, alarmed, "Nah, that's a friend. Yeah he sounds a bit like Keller…yeah, just a friend. I don't go around sleeping with men who remind me of him. I'm crazy but not that crazy. Oh he said your name?" Toby throws Chris a _"What the fuck were you thinking?"_ look and Chris can only facepalm in reply.  
Toby turns back to the conversation on the phone, "Now that's crazy, man. He must've just put two and two together...yeah, I talk about you sometimes. And other people at Oz…Nah, don't worry, nothing incriminating...Sure…wait this week? When's the hearing?...Fuck, that's soon. Okay, okay. I'll head over in a couple days. See ya then. Bye, man."

He flips the phone shut with a silent grim look.  
Chris walks close enough to grab hold of Toby's wrist, lifting it up and placing a comforting kiss to the back of his hand, "So What'd he want? Nothing good, I'm guessing by the look on your face."

"He's up for parole. And Sister Peter Marie said that the board plans on not even giving him a chance. An instant fail."

"So, what is he telling you for?"

"He wants me to help him using my disbarred lawyer super powers," Toby smirks humorlessly.

"And?"

"I'm gonna visit him at Oz to see what I can do."

Chris doesn't like the sound of that and says so with a grumble, "I don't like you going back there."

"And you think I do?"

"I know you don't. And that's why I don't like it," an idea strikes Chris, "You want me to go with you?"

"No," Toby strikes that offer down even faster. "I won't be there long. I don't even know for sure which day I'm going. I got the kids this weekend and I'm not ditching them for Oz of all places. Holly would never forgive me. And then I got work on Monday with a client."

"A client?"

"Yeah, remember? I do some consulting work at the firm."

"Oh yeah," he must've mentioned it when Chris was distracted with Toby's body most likely, "Slipped my mind."

"Don't worry about it," reassures Toby, "I'll figure it out. And you should know better than most, I can look after myself. And when I can't, you'll be there, won't you?"

Chris kisses the back of the hand still in his grasp.

"Always."

 

~*~

 

Toby is now finally dressed--though Chris was sad to see all that gorgeous skin be covered up--and Chris finally got to throw that shirt on along with one of Toby's light jackets.

As they wait for Holly to put the final touches to her intricate hairstyle--Chris has never seen so many pins go onto one head-- Toby packs up a blanket and throws together some sandwiches and bottled waters in a cliche picnic basket.  
When Chris teases him about it, he flushes an adorable red and says, "My mother got it for me."

Chris probably owes Toby an apology for picking on him about the basket because having the blanket lying out on the grass at the park is actually weirdly nice.

Especially with Toby sitting next to him atop it.

They have been watching the kids flying their kites and Chris has been happily munching on a ham and swiss sandwich.  
Taking a large swig of water, Toby continues to talk about his kids while Chris listens intently, "Harry is so very outgoing. He has friends that think it's cool his dad went to prison," he sighs sadly, "Holly on the other hand has had a rough go of it. Third grade got bad after I went back. And she got teased constantly. Her teacher didn't bother to put an end to it and my mother had to go in and file a complaint. She even had the woman fired."

"Oh what a wonderful teacher. Is that the one you fucked?" Chris can't stop the irritation from building up.

"Technically...yes. I'm sorry," Toby turns away, "I lied before."

"Lied about what?" Chris is genuinely confused.

"I never slept with her."

"But you were in love with her," Chris states even more confused than before.

"No. I was in love with you," Toby corrects firmly.

"But she made you laugh out loud," Chris gets out through the lump in his throat.

That makes Toby laugh a humorless chuckle, "Tons of people make me laugh out loud. Robin Williams, Adam Sandler, Sheldon Cooper on Big Bang, my mother on occasion when she's being witty. Doesn't mean I'm in love with them. Or want to fuck them for that matter. How could you have thought that?"

Chris grumbles aggravated at himself, "I don't know. I was so jealous and angry. And I missed you like I lost a limb. And I kept dreading the day you would come in and say, _'I'm with someone else. I can't come here anymore.'_ So much it was driving me nuts. Which I did go nuts after you apparently lied and told me you _fucked_ her," Chris realizes he is starting to raise his voice, and finishes, with a rough whisper, "Why would you say that?"

Toby seems to curl up into himself and the guilt is so obvious and thick, Chris could choke on it. Toby squeaks out, voice broken, "I wanted you to be jealous."

Chris huffs out a sigh and needs to physically stop himself from face-palming, "Well you succeeded. But God. Toby, why?"

And that makes Toby meet his gaze. His eyes are glossy with unshed tears but his voice was even and stubborn with an underlayer of fire, "Because you'd do it to me. Flirting with your wives. Saying that a new prag's lips would look perfect wrapped around your dick. Just to see me storm off in a jealous rage. But, then I was no longer there and I couldn't help but think who you were fucking while I was out. So I _wanted_ you to be jealous. And _if_ you weren't jealous, I wanted you to see me as the cool boyfriend who doesn't tie you down. And can bang chicks left and right. And you fucking other people. Didn't. **_Hurt_**. At. All. So yeah I _lied_. I thought I'd want to sleep with a woman but I didn't. We did go on a date but it was awkward and just plain weird. Not even one kiss. And made me realize, I only wanted _you_ ," Toby's voice did choke up then. But he kept going, "And though I got to see my kids and walk in the sun, and feel the rain on my face, I still felt trapped. Being kept away from you. And I was so confused when I got arrested again. I was so fucking mad that you would betray me like that. But part of me was so _relieved_. But the anger won out in the end. And then you fucking di--," the words get stuck in Toby's throat and he coughs and repeats, "And you fucking **_died_**. I didn't even know what to do with my life anymore. Just going with the flow. Listlessly being swept away." Toby turns away again and Chris' chest constricts when Toby wipes his eyes with his sleeve.

Wrapping his arm around Toby's slightly trembling shoulders, Chris whispers close to his ear, "You know I forgive you just as you've forgiven me for worse crap," he ends it with a light kiss to that ear.

"I lied to you," Toby replies quietly.

To that, Chris kisses the side of his face, "I've lied to you plenty more times. Not since being ' _Elliot_ ' but I did _before_. And you haven't lied to me since either. Let's keep that bad crap in the past. The good far outways it. We are both out. We have a new life to live on the outside. Both of us. Together. I mean, look at your kids. You can see them flying kites **_right_ _there_**. No walls to seperate you. No designated time to fit in all you want to say in a visit," Chris uses his other arm not holding his beloved, to point to the left of them, "And look at that fucking river over there, with those weird ass birds splashing about in it, and the breeze. God, The breeze feels so fucking good. We are out. We are together. All of us. And we won't lie to each other anymore."

"No we won't. And those weird ass birds are geese, you dork," Toby smiles and Chris' heart sings.

"Pssh, who cares? Weird birds are weird birds. Now come back over here and give me some sugar," Chris waggles his brows salaciously.

"Never thought I'd hear the _Killer Keller_ say that," Toby laughs as he climbs into Chris' lap.

Chris kisses him to shut him up, but not before saying, "There's a lot I'd say...or do for you...or with you, that I'd never with anyone else."

Their makeout session ends prematurely when Harry's kite crashes to the earth and his screams of frustration echoes throughout the park, "Daaad! Holly used her kite to knock mine down!"

Climbing out of Chris' lap with a groan, he calls over to his children as he walks their way, "Seriously, Holly? Again?"

Chris chuckles as he gets up to follow, "Hey, Harry! You wanna know how to knock hers out first?"

Harry couldn't reply fast enough with his exuberant, "Yeah!"

Harry is a quick learner and is able to knock Holly's kite outta the sky three times. Until, Toby takes over for Holly and Harry's kite went down in record speed.

"That was almost as impressive as when you beat me at chess in 2 moves," Chris says gobsmacked.

Toby just laughs as he helps get Harry's kite back into the sky, "Yeah that would have been impressive, if you weren't total crap at chess in the first place."

Toby doesn't have a chance to run before Chris tackles him to the ground.

And in the grass, with the sounds of the children's giggles over the adults' antics, the breeze cooling down their heated skin, Chris now holding Toby's hand in his own, he laughs so hard it brings tears to his eyes.

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next on Parallel Lines Colliding: Toby meets his client and takes his visit to Oz. While, Chris gets a call and why he was shot might have been a deeper plot than he thought.


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Something unexpected happens when Toby meets his client. And his visit to Oz, he's not alone for the ride.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm baaaaaack!
> 
> Sorry for the long break in between chapters. IRL has been hectic and writing (and sleep) has become a luxury I can't afford all the time haha  
> I hope everyone enjoyed their Christmas and/or holiday and Happy New Year! :D
> 
> But anyway this is a longer one than usual and I hope that it makes up for it!
> 
> Anyway, thanks so much for reading and I hope you enjoy this chapter as much as me :)
> 
> Unbeta'd so all mistakes are my own. I will re-go through it again to see if I missed anything.
> 
> Comments and kudos are appreciated <3

So the rest of the weekend went by like a blur. 

Too fast but very satisfying.

Toby got to spend some more quality time with his kids and Chris got to know them.

On Sunday night, Holly and Harry got brought "home" back to his mother's by Angus. Luckily, Chris was there to soften the blow that saying their temporary goodbyes usually brings. It always feels like Toby is back in Oz saying goodbye to them in the visiting room.

He just wants to hold them close and not ever let go. He always had to hold back the impulse to hiss at Angus and take his kids back and growl if he tried again.

But the supportive hand on Toby's shoulder grounded him to the reality that, "Yes. I am _out_. And I will see them soon."

 _No need to act like an animal_.

And once they were gone, the crippling anxiety of their absence didn't come. And falling asleep in Chris' arms was like the cherry on top to this wonderful weekend.

When Monday arrives Toby doesn't want to get out of bed. The muscular warm arms protecting him from the morning chill of the room. He snuggles deeper into the comforter and the comforting embrace of Chris.

He just about falls asleep again, when he feels lips caressing the back of his neck. He can feel them shape into a smile and can feel the words, "Good morning, sunshine,"  against his bare skin.

Toby grabs the firm hand holding his waist and brings it to his lips to place a light kiss on the knuckles. Nuzzling the hand he replies, his voice still rough with sleep, "G' morning."

As Chris continues to nip and kiss Toby's neck in a teasing manner, Toby can't hold it anymore and twists around and puts that mischievous mouth against his own, in a lazy deep kiss.

After a moment of trading kisses back and forth, Toby pulls back to ask, "Why do you always call me that when we first wake up?"

"Call you what? Sexy?" Chris tries to steal another kiss.

Toby let's him but pulls back again to answer, "No," Toby can feel his face heat up as he says the word, "Sunshine."

Chris tucks a stray hair behind Toby's ear and cups the side of his face. He's smiling softly and there's a slight redness tickling the skin of his cheeks: like what he is about to say isn't as macho as he would like but he's saying it regardless because he can be romantic like that.

So it comes a shock to Toby when the next words out of that meek expression are, "Because the world is dark as shit."

"What? What kind of reason is that?" Toby can't help but laugh, since it was so unexpected.

"Let me finish," Chris smacks him playfully on the arm and when Toby is just muffling his laughter, Chris gives him a look that says, "You done?" And Toby nods for him to continue.

"The world is shit. People are shit. People treat each other like shit. It is a shit colored world. Like we're all living in some sort of sewage plant. It's so fucking dark. And try as I might, in both lives even, I've been drowning in it." 

Any amusement Toby had drains from his being.

And he can feel his throat catch on a sob, knowing how cruel the world has been to Chris and his eyes begin to sting. He rapidly blinks to keep any tears at bay.

Chris smiles sadly, "Hey, hey. No water works. I'm not looking for some pity party. I'm not as good with words as you. So this is hard to explain. But I just want to say that when I met you it was like a breath of fresh air."

And hearing those words, Toby's own breath is caught in his chest and his heart is thundering against his rib cage. He wants to tell Chris to stop; that, his heart can't take anymore. That it's too much. But he also wants to hear it. Wants Chris to pull him apart with his words only to piece him back together again.

So he stays silent and just listens as Chris continues, "Like I was breathing for the first time in my Godforsaken life. Like the storm had been lifted and the sun was shining through. Both times. Both lives. The sunlight warmed my face. Warmed my life. And my heart," and he leans in and kisses the tear that Toby couldn't keep at bay on his cheek. He continues in a whisper against the skin, Toby can feel the movement of his lips as he forms the words, "And someplace else." Chris grinds his half hard dick into Toby's, breaking the tension. And Toby groans mix in with his laughter. 

Chris smiles so wide and so bright. His eyes crinkled with amusement and the deepest, most gorgeous blue.  

Toby is gobsmacked at how beautiful he is. 

And in that moment he knows that Chris is _his_ _sunshine_ too.

  
  


~*~

 

Toby spins listlessly back and forth in his chair at his desk. 

It's still too early for his client to arrive and he regrets leaving a bed with Chris in it so soon. When he could have stayed wrapped up in him maybe ten minutes longer.

Toby can't help but smile thinking about how Chris pouted and was very adamant about not letting Toby go. So very much like a child that it was both crazy adorable and rather hilarious.

No one would believe that Chris Keller is just one giant muscular baby. 

That thought makes Toby literally laugh out loud.

A light knock on his office door that could only belong to his secretary startles him out of his amusement. Her small voice travels somehow through the thick wood of the door, "Mr. Beecher, your client is here early for the consultation. Can I let him in?"

Toby straightens his lapels and makes sure his posture is presteen, "Y-yes," Toby clears his throat and tries again, "Yes. Please, Maureen. Let him in."

"Very well. It'll be just a moment."

Indeed, a moment it is, before a much harder knock shakes the sturdy door is echoing into the room.

Toby raises his voice to be heard over the banging, "Come in."

And the door creaks open and out slithers a tall slim man. He looks to be very wealthy, middle aged and he has not a hair out of place on his full head of it. He smooths down the lapels of his coat as if to fix some imaginary wrinkle.

He looks up from his clothes and his gaze is so intense, it is as if Toby can physically feel it. 

The smile on Toby's face dies but he throws away the notion that the gaze is hungry like he would eat Toby up with his eyes if he could.

He is just being paranoid.

Living locked up with horny and aggressive men has twisted Toby's judgment.

But then the man gives a large handsome smile with perfect teeth. One of which would usually put Toby's mind at ease.

But one of the many things you learn in prison, is whether a smile is genuine or not. Can save your life (or ass) a time or two.

And this one sets the hair on the back of his neck on end and a chill runs down his spine.

Well it is not the first time he has to deal with a person of this calibre and it certainly won't be the last.

So he stands up and places a similar and equally _genuine_ smile on his own face, "Hello, I'm Toby Beecher, you must be Mark Stuart."

"Yes I certainly am," he smirks as if being himself is something to be incredibly proud of.

Then Toby holds out to shake the man's hand, even though every cell in his body is screaming, _"Ge the fuck away from him!"_ Just as they did when he first met Shillinger but he didn't listen then because he was stupid and thought anyone could be better than Adebisi.

He doesn't listen now either since what would he tell Angus anyway? _"Yeah, I refused to help the client because he was giving me the Heebie Jeebies."_

The man latches onto Toby's hand quickly like a viper. Which wouldn't have been too bad but his grip isn't just firm--like courtesy expects-- but hard. Toby attempts to pull his hand away from the man's grasp. His squeezing even hurting Toby's calloused hands.

Deciding to stay professional even given this unusual situation, Toby plays it off as a joke,

"Not so hard, Mr. Stuart. I'm gonna need my hands to help you."

"Yes. Indeed you do," he leers as he lets go and Toby runs steps away to sit behind his desk. He fights the urge to rub the throbbing skin of his hand. Praying to God it doesn't bruise because Chris would throw a fit.

Mr. Stuart takes a seat as well on the other side of Toby's desk, arrogantly, without being invited to. "And it is a pleasure meeting a man of your standing."

"Well let's not get into that," Toby stresses strongly through clenched teeth, "Let's talk about your case."

They get into the details and Toby pulls out files for reference.

When they have compiled a case to go forth with for Mr.Stuart to go in deeper with his lawyer in court, the meeting is at its end and Toby is seeing him off at his office door. But right before Toby could close it fully, a hand springs through and pulls it back open.

Toby startles and he can feel his glasses lying askew on his nose; but he fixes them and recovers quickly with, "Yes? Was there anyth--"

But he doesn't finish as Mr. Stuart interrupts Toby with, "So I've heard you were in prison," he remarks, leaning casually in the door frame.

Toby has to force down the impulse to roll his eyes, but he cannot stop the slight affronted tone from leaking out as he crosses his arms and puffs out his chest, "Yes. And I'm disbarred. Doesn't change the fact that I have the skills to help you. But if you'd prefer someone else, we can make arrangements for a different consultant." 

"No, no. I'm perfectly _happy_ with you," and Toby has never heard such a joyous word sound so _wrong_ coming out of someone's mouth, "I was just thinking you must be very good at _it_ ," he licks his lips a little and Toby hopes it is just because they felt dry and not in coordination with his words.

"I'm sorry but I'm confused as to what you are referring to," Toby feigns naivety.

He booms out a guffaw, then states vulgarly, "Sucking dick," gripping his own between his legs to stress his point.

"Excuse me?" Toby nearly screams, insulted.

But the man has already turned his back and is walking away; so, Toby just huffs and shuts the door of his office with a very loud and angry slam.

He can hear the man's taunting laughter rolling down from the corridor, as he collapses back into his chair with swear words on the tip of his tongue. But he just ends up giggling himself; the crazy leaking through.

Mr. Stuart should really mind his words. 

Because Toby has been known to _bite_.

 

~*~

 

Chris is pouting as he slouches on the much too comfortable sofa at Toby's condo. His thumb pressing rapidly as he flips absentmindedly through the stations on the TV.

The gash on his arm barely aching as his hand scratches under Toby's shirt he's wearing. A shirt he knows isn't the exact same one Toby wore in Oz but the moss color and shape are reminiscent of that fugly ass one. So Chris attempts to snuggle deeper into it but it is already pulled tight on his muscles and he knows Toby will already be pissed he stretched it out.

But, he's just so fucking bored outta his mind with no work or Toby to occupy him.

He hasn't heard from Kathy either on when he can visit the kids even though he has time off. All she said when he called her to let her know was, "We'll see." 

So when his phone rings, he is quick to snatch it up in his eagerness and relief.

"Stabler," Chris pretty much shouts.

"Hello, Elliot," the familiar voice of his boss floods from the speaker of the phone, "I tried your home phone but there was no answer."

"Yeah I haven't been there in a while. Staying at a friend's place."

"Oh your _friend,_ huh," and the way Cragen says friend with such dis-believability has Chris rolling his eyes with a, "Not to be rude, sir, but why are you calling? It's not to call me in to work, I'm guessing."

"No, not exactly. We have come across some information from and about the man who attacked you."

Luckily before Chris could jeopardize his job by ushering his boss to get on with it, the man does.

"Olivia was able to coax some information out of the man. His name as you might know is Alan Davidson his older brother, Michael, was charged and convicted for raping a young woman. And you were the one who arrested him."

Cragen stops talking like he's waiting for Chris to reply but all he's got is, "Sorry but I don't remember arresting anyone with that last name. I have arrested a _lot_ of people."

 "I understand. Well anyway," Cragen finally gets on with it, "He said one night when he was drinking in a bar--one of which is a dead end-- he was approached by some men. He remembers one had a swastika on his forearm but not much else except they were all white. Which is highly likely for a white supremacist group, obviously. He said that they overheard him ranting on about his brother and they were sympathetic. They then offered him the pistol and told him he should get his revenge on a man named Elliot Stabler. You could probably see where I'm going with this. And Davidson was happy to comply with their wishes. He said they didn't want anything in return. They just wanted him to make sure that you weren't breathing much longer. Because apparently you have been breathing down their necks. After the interrogation, we soon found out a strong possibility why a group of Aryans would want you dead. There was a news casting which leaked info on the Swastika Murders Thursday morning. And apparently, they depicted that you were the head Detective on the case."

"Well that's bullshit. I haven't even touched a piece of paper in the Swastika Murder file," Elliot groans in frustration.

"I know," Cragen replies, "The media had the wrong information somehow. But either way, the group now wants you dead. And since Davidson failed on his little mission, you should watch out for more attempts on your life. We have also heard from an informant that the Nazi group is humiliated their plan didn't pull through. And they might be taking a more direct approach," Cragen let his words sink in a few seconds before continuing, "Maybe I should be giving you a protection detail. Which address are you staying at? And I'll send them over to watch the place."

"Hey. Hey. Wait a minute. I'm no damsel who needs a protector. I'm a cop for God's sakes. No offense, but I can take care of myself. And what about work. When can I get back to doing my job? Does this mean I'm on leave for longer?"

"Don't worry. You can get back to work sometime this week."

And before Chris can let out a sigh of relief, Cragen ruins it with, "Though, you will be on desk duty until further notice."

"Seriously, _ass_ duty?"

Cragen must decide not to garner that with a reply and pretends to not have heard it and goes with, "Oh yes, I almost forgot. Since, though you are not on the case, you _are_ still involved, I will tell you the newest update on the Swastika Murders case."

When he doesn't continue right away Chris says, "Yes?" And tries to keep the impatience out of his tone.

"There has been another victim. If you haven't noticed I've been referral to the case with plural _murders_ ," Cragen stresses the _S_ as obnoxious as a man of his standing could without seeming silly.  "A man this time. His name was Frank Malone and he was on parole. He was a former...mind my language, bitch in _Oswald State Penitentiary_."

Chris flinches hearing the name of the cage he spent a chunk of his former life in and fucking _died_ in.

Cragen continues unbeknownst of Chris' discomfort, "The man was brutally raped just like the first victim. Evidence that it was done by several men at once has been found on his body. They also carved the Swastika deeply into his chest. They were not careful this time and used the same knife. Tiny flecks of dried blood from the previous victim Howell was found inside his wounds."

"Well that's just nasty."

And before Cragen can voice his disapproval of Chris' disrespectful words, an idea pops up in Chris' mind, clear as day. He pipes up with, "Oh, yeah, Sir. I just have one small request regarding the case and _Oswald State Penitentiary_ ." The name rolling weirdly off his tongue. No wonder everyone just calls it _Oz._  

Chris smiles as he hears the exhausted sigh on the other end and the words, "Very well. Let's hear it."

 

~*~

 

"Can you cut that out?"

And before Chris can reply around the chewed as all hell straw in his mouth, a hand whips from the passenger seat and snatches it away.

"Chill. Chill. What's got your little panties in a twist?" Chris snarls.

Toby's glare could break glass it was so piercing. "I told you, I could take care of this myself."

"And I told you, after what happened with that slug at your office yesterday, maybe that ain't so true," then Chris smiles sarcastically, "Plus, where's the fun in that?"

"You are so frustrating sometimes."

"Right back atcha, babe."

"I could've taken a cab."

"And spent how much on it? That's a waste of fucking money. When I have business here anyway," he gestures to the file he picked up early this morning on the Swastika Murders (See? Chris can refer to it as plural when he has all the information. Cragen, that jackass.) sitting in the back seat.

"What kind of business?" Toby looks at it like if he stares at it hard enough it will reveal its secrets.

"Just need to talk to some Nazi fuck. Might know who killed that skank Howell and those other poor guys." Yeah. _Guys._ Cragen agreed to let Chris pick up a copy of the file, only for it to be thicker than expected. Just this morning another body fitting the M.O. was found: brutally raped, murdered, and a Swastika carved into one of his ass cheeks this time. Poor, dude. 

Chris' hand tightens on the steering wheel. The only display of his anger at the brutality. Hating how it reminds him of how Toby suffered at the hands of that sick fuck Shillinger.

 _Branded like livestock_.

"I thought you were on _ass duty_ ," Toby hisses out.

Chris sighs. That's why he's not holding his Toby's hand to comfort himself. The man is being such a little bitch right now, "Cragen said I can do this _then_ I'm on ass duty."

"Mmm hmm."

"He really did."

"Yeah, yeah. I got it."

"Whatever, Tobe. We're here, by the way. Now get that sweet ass outta my car so we can leave this God forsaken place as soon as possible."

Toby doesn't do that though. He stares morosely at his clasped hands in his lap, "Aren't you supposed to have a partner with you?"

"For going to a secured prison? It's recommended but not mandatory. I don't need someone to watch my back."

Those are apparently the wrongs words to say because, Toby's face contorted in anger.

" _Secured_? My father got murdered in its _secured_ halls. My brother got shanked in those fucking _secured_ halls," Toby growls low and menacing.

"Aw babe," Chris takes one of his clenched hands gently though he knows his next words will cut deep, "No worries. No one can sneak behind me. They aren't nearly as clever as you."

_Chris fucking hates how much of an asshole he is sometimes._

Toby finally looks up from their clasped hands with a sad face yet defiant flare in his eyes, only to bring Chris' up to bite him sharply on his knuckle.

_Then Toby does something like this and Chris doesn't regret his asshoolery as much._

"Ow. Ow. Ow. Let go," Toby releases his fangs and Chris takes back his wounded hand. "You're like a rabid animal when you're pissed. Look you even broke the skin."

Toby just rolls his eyes when Chris lewdly licks the now bleeding hand: his tongue lapping through a smirk, "Now we're twinsies," his eyes hard as they gesture to the dark bruise near Toby's knuckle, made by that scumbag client. Toby is still being pretty tight-lipped on what went down during that meeting. But Chris got the gist of it. And he's _pissed_.

Toby doesn't reply to the sexy taunt, he just silently gets out of the car. But once Chris jumps out as well, he grunts, "I told you not to come," as he slams the car door.

"Seriously? Back to the same argument. Wasn't over and over on the car ride here good enough?" Chris quickly gets the folder from the back seat and picks up the pace to catch up to Toby, as they walk towards the entrance.

"Not if you're still here."

"Haha very funny. What, did you expect me to just turn around on the way here? Or to abandon you to go in this shit hole by yourself. Nuh uh. Not happening, pal."

They reach the guard. Chris flips open his badge, "Detective Stabler, SVU. I called to set up a meeting with one of the inmates here."

"Yeah, yeah. I'll let them know to get him ready in an interrogation room."

"Oh and this is Toby Beecher. A law consultant visiting an inmate."

The man sneers, "Yeah. I know who Beecher is."

"And what's that supposed to mean?" Chris replies, cheerfully yet full of menace.

The guard just ignores Chris and turns to Toby with a mean smirk, "How's the concussion?"

"Healed up just fine, no thanks to you," Toby replies dry as sand.

The guard is about to throw in another retort but Chris interrupts, "Sir, you did what now?"

"Just punished a trouble inmate."

"Toby may be troubled," his gets an elbow into his rib for that one, "but he is NOT trouble."

Chris gets in the guards face and swiftly grabs the startled man by his chin, "Proudly boasting about abusing inmates in front of a Law Enforcement officer?"

The man finds his words, "I'm an officer--"

"Tsk, tsk," Chris cuts him off, "Don't play games with me, little man." 

The man visibly shakes and Chris chuckles, and says in a low yet sweet voice, "If you ever harm or even make Beecher uncomfortable, you will be answering to me," he pats the man's face lightly three times and the guard glitches each time like they are punches.

He leans in close to whisper, "And when I'm done you'll be begging for mercy."

Chris then straightens the man's lapels, leans back with a bright smile plastered on his face, "Aw don't look like that," _like you're going to piss yourself_ , "I'm sorry. I was just getting a warm up for my interrogation with the skel. You understand, don't you?"

Then the smiles is wiped clean from Chris' face, "We've reached an _understanding_ , haven't we?"

The man exaggerates a rapid head nod and buzzes to let them in, his hand trembling as he pushes the button.

Chris turns to see Toby with wide eyes glued to Chris, a red face, and a slack jaw. The tent in his pants luckily not too obvious.

Chris licks his lips, knowing exactly what he wants to do with that open and hungry mouth.

"Come on, Beecher, the sooner we get this over with, the sooner you can have dinner," he waggles his eyebrows. 

And Toby is knocked from his lustful stupor, nods once and flushes an even deeper red-- embarrassment and from horniness, as he covers his front with his briefcase-- as Chris leads him deeper into _Oz._

 

~*~

 

Toby would so be worried and anxious about Chris' wellbeing right now if just before they parted, the bastard didn't lean close and whisper, "Hey, Tobe. What's behind your **_brief_ **case?"

Oh Toby wishes he could have smacked him in his incredibly attractive yet smug as fuck face.

"Who's smug as fuck face? You better not be talking 'bout me Beecher," a voice husky like someone who smoked a whole pack of cigarettes in one go, comes from the doorway. 

Toby looks up to see an irritated Alverez shuffling with his wrists and ankles shackled.

He looks more haggard since the last time Toby saw him. But still handsome all the same. Not _Chris handsome_ but still. 

His hair is definitely different. It has grown quite a lot. Down to his shoulders even and it is up in an intricate braid--Toby thinks it might be called an inverted french braid since Holly ranted on about them one time and attempted one on his hair unsuccessfully. It would seem pretty feminine for prison but Alverez's head is shaved on both sides, giving the style an exotic and even intimidating look.

"Even if I was talking about yours, what you gonna do about it? When you need me to save your bitch ass?" Toby snarks back.

Alverez lets out a breathy soft chuckle, "Good to see you too, _puta_."

Replying with a chuckle of his own, Toby says, "Right back atcha, man," as he gets up to pull the man into a hug. Or what would've been one anyway. Toby let's go and ask the grumpy as fuck guard, "Are these necessary?" Toby points to the very large shackles overwhelming the smaller man.

"They stay on," the guard replies, then with a smirk adds, "What you need his hands for something? He your boyfriend and you want him to get a good grope in?"

Stopping Alverez from lunging and attempting to kill the guard isn't very easy.

 

~*~

  
  
  


Chris wanders the halls. Luckily none of the guards he recognizes. Probably all quit or got fucking killed with the way things work around here.

Having finished the interogation pretty fucking quick. The guy certainly acted like a Nazi when he walked in but Shillinger woulda had his ass in record speed. 

Little bitch that one. 

Words flowed out of him like water from a dam with little to no threats. The guard that Chris made almost piss his pants at the gate, was made of tougher stuff.

But even with all the blubbering, all Chris got from the Nazi was that he heard from a guy who heard from a guy that the men who have been _"fucking around"_ _(his_ words, not Chris') frequent a bar called _Guzzler_. Classy name that one.

So yeah Chris is stuck here till Toby is done with whatever business he has with Alverez. 

Now that is a weird fucking friendship. 

Toby swears that they never fucked. 

But Chris guesses they bonded over getting clean or someshit.

After Chris kicked the bucket, Toby got into some heavy stuff for a bit and Alverez was popping pills like candy for some other reason Chris _doesn't fucking care about_.

Anyway, surprise, surprise they both decide to get clean around the same time. Toby for his kids and Alverez probably for himself, the selfish prick.

Well whatever, they better not have fucked, or Chris is...he doesn't even know what. It's not like he can _kill_ him. And anyway, he's probably getting worked up over nothin'. 

Toby wouldn't lie to him anyway. 

But God is that man taking a long fucking time talking about law crap.

Chris is so caught up in his mind he doesn't realize where he is, till he hears a familiar soft spoken voice coming from inside an open doorway.

He freaks out and turns to run when the voice gets louder till she's coming through the doorway with a young, black inmate Chris doesn't recognize by her side.

Her eyes immediately catch Chris and they open wide in terror.

 _Oh fuck_.

Though, when she  swiftly crosses herself, Chris almost cannot hold back his laughter.

 

~*~

 

Flipping closed his brei-- his _bag_ , having compiled a case to file an official complaint against the parole board,Toby stands up to bid farewell to his friend.

But before Toby can speak, Alverez beats him to it with, "I've heard things," he says quietly as he stands up as well.

"Okaaay," Toby replies, unsure where this is going, "Like what?"

"The Aryan fucks have been up to some no good shit lately. They are like some kinda new generation. At least that's how they call themselves. The _fucks_ ," Alverez curses under his breath.

"And what's this got to do with me?" Toby says anxiously. His palms sweating and he squeezes them into fists.

"No offense, but I do call you _puta_ for a reason."

"Hey--" The fists go tighter for a whole other reason.

"Let me finish. Please, Toby," Alverez pleads.

That shuts Toby right up and his irritation is suddenly gone to be replaced with shock. Alverez _never_ has called Toby by his first name.

"The prags that have been _marked_ or pragged by the Nazis are new targets for these New Gen fucks," Alverez continues since Toby went silent, "And you out of anyone has the most obvious _mark_ outta anyone. And _everyone_ fucking knows it."

"Are these the gang rapes on the news?"

"Yeah. And they say that they are just getting started. So, I'm just saying, you need to watch your back or have someone watch it for you. I got a cousin. He ain't cheap but I can pull some strings--"

"Alverez," Toby cuts him off. He reaches and puts a hand on the other man's shoulder.

Alverez appears to have startled at the sudden touch but let's Toby leave it there.

Toby smiles kindly and squeezes the muscle under his hand slightly, “That's nice of you to offer, Miguel, thank you. And thanks for the warning, really. But, someone's already watching my back. And I feel pity for anyone who tries to get through him to get to me. I really do,” Toby cackles.

“Whatever you say, _amigo_ ," Alverez smirks back, "Whatever you say, ya crazy fuck," 

 

~*~

 

"Hey, sister. Sorry to have startled you there," Chris wears a smile, "I'm Elliot Stabler, SVU and I was just here to talk to an inmate regarding an ongoing investigation."

The other inmate present looks timid all of a sudden, he stupidly points to himself, "It's not me, is it?"

Chris just shakes his head with a chuckle, "Nah. No worries. Actually, you can run along now," Chris nods to the CO present ,"I just want to have a few words with this Sister here."

When both people are out of earshot Chris smiles at the bone white nun, "I've introduced myself. You are?"

She seems to come back to herself and tries her best to reach composure, "I-I…" she stutters then clears her throat and steels her voice, "I am Sister Peter-Marie. Do you have any business with me."

"No. No. Nothing like that. Just wanted to ask you one question is all. You don't even have to answer if you don't want to," she nods slowly, her eyes filled to the brim with suspicion.

Chris' kind smile turns snide and his words sharp, "Have you ever noticed a man that you knew was getting raped or brutalized by a Nazi? And did nothing to stop or prevent it?"

The gulp in her throat is so loud Chris can her it clearly, but she otherwise keeps silent.

"Can't answer, huh? Funny enough I heard one anyway," Chris chuckles low and menacing.

"No matter," Chris returns to a more cheerful facade, "Thanks for talking to me, ma'am. I hope you have a good day."

He then turns and walks the way he came.

He can't help the satisfied smirk--like a cat that got it's cream--from stretching his lips, when he hears the sister exhale.

Like she was holding her breath.

 

~*~

 

Chris slams his cell-phone shut, unsatisfied the small gadget doesn't have the same impact as slamming a land-line.

"Even after I do the work to get a lead, Cragen still has me on ass duty, Tobe. _Ass duty_ ," Chris stresses his point.

"I know but it's for your own protection, technically," Toby counters.

Chris just carries on like he didn't hear Toby trying to be reasonable, "These bastards are fucked up enough to target a cop to hinder this investigation. You know what I say, I'm gonna take the fight to them. I ain't no Nazi's bitch. Who's gonna wait till this shit blows over while someone else does the work," Chris throws on a leather jacket, he picked up from his place on the way back to Toby's earlier.

"Where are you going?" Toby gets up and demands.

"To find out who these fuckers are," Chris grabs his boots too and sits back down to tie them up.

"Well, I'm going with you," Toby eyes his own _plead_ jacket like he is about to run into a bar full of Nazis wearing it. God he'd be _fucked_ . And Chris means that it the most _literal_ sense and he doesn't like it one bit.

"Uh...No you ain't. I'm the cop and you're just a--"

"Prag?"

_It's like the man can read Chris' fucking mind like the crazy bookworm he is._

"Fuck, Tobe. You know that's not what I meant."

Toby raises both eyebrows like they're saying , _"You're fooling exactly no one here,"_ but says with his mouth "Then what's the problem? And don't say it's not 'my job'. 'Cause technically **Mr.** **Ass. Duty** , it's not yours either."

 _Woo. That's burns like a bitch_.

"Fuck, babe," Chris laughs, impressed with Toby's point that is still smarting, but, "Doesn't change the fact it's dangerous."

"Well, so am I."

"You're what?"

"Dangerous."

And if that dark gleam in Toby's eye doesn't turn Chris on, that crazy smile sure does.

With a matching grin of his own, Chris relents, "Fine. But get outta those preppy as shit clothes. And don't you dare grab that plead coat, I swear to God. You are gonna have to look like the ex-convict you are."

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next on Parallel Lines Colliding: The boys head over to the Guzzler. Do they get the information they need? And does Toby look rough and tough enough to fit in?

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading!  
> Comments and kudos are much appreciated! <3


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